


Mistakes, Interrupted

by entreppid



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Assassins & Hitmen, Blood and Torture, Bottom Byun Baekhyun, Bottom Do Kyungsoo | D.O, Creepy!Suho, Dirty Talk, Exploitation, Fluff, Frottage, Gangster!AU, Jealous Chanyeol, Jealous Sehun, Jealousy, Love Triangles, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Psychological Torture, Rimming, Smut, Top Kim Jongin | Kai, Top Kim Minseok | Xiumin, Villain!Jiyong, sexual exploitation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-18 04:53:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 46,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12381300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entreppid/pseuds/entreppid
Summary: "It’s just one contract",[in which Baekhyun is persuaded to accept a lucritive job offer from one of the biggest crime lords in South Korea - Kim Jongin]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Blood, violence, torture, etc - yunno, typical gang!au stuff
> 
>    
> The first thing I've ever written (at least seriously written)  
>  
> 
> (IMPORTANT (READ BEFORE READING): for some reason I didn't put in a lot of effort in the first three chapters, but i promise the quality of the chapters gets better after the first ones, it really does. I don't know why I didn't put more effort into the first two but here we are. As much as I wish I could redo it, or just cut those out, I need the plot-build up, so I won't. But have some faith, because I think my writing gets a lot better after like chapter 3. ANYWAY, have fun :))

_Chapter 1_

Baekhyun allowed himself to breathe the humid, crisp air. It wasn’t cold, but the last of the summer heat had started to fade. He stepped onto the crowded bus on its way to the other end of Seoul, escaping the slight wind that tugged on his already fluffy hair. No one paid enough attention to his unusual-looking bulky jacket for Baekhyun to be worried.

He didn’t use public transport often, but in cases like these, remaining as low-profile as possible outweighed the comfort of taking the bike. Leaned against the window, he allowed his thoughts stray for a brief moment. The streets were crowded with people; tourists, shoppers, and stressed business-men, all scurrying around like ants on an anthill.

The city was starting to feel more and more like home to him in the relatively short time he’d lived here, despite the merciless way it chewed you up at the slightest mis-step.

Baekhyun was snapped back to reality when the bus stopped abruptly for a red light, causing him to lose his footing momentarily.

About 40 minutes later, when it was considerably less crowded, Baekhyun stepped off the bus, adjusting his hood. He looked down at his phone. Approximately 200 m away. Kyungsoo had been quick to help Baekhyun with directions – Kyungsoo’s directions not being much more than just typing the location into google maps and telling him not to get lost.

 _It’s just one contract,_ he reasoned with himself.

Baekhyun quickly made his way through the small, dark streets to his destination, streets filled with people you’d rather stay away from. The air was stifling – almost every breath Baekhyun took reeked of cigarette smoke and pollution. Baekhyun had built up quite a reputation during his professional life, but very few people actually recognised him in person, which was a huge advantage.

Nonetheless, he kept his hand close to the supressed pistol tucked away under his jacket.

The location in question was some old warehouse, pretty well concealed in the cluster of houses around it. As he approached, he closed his phone, sliding it in his pocket. His heartbeat was quickening, despite having done this countless times before.

He kept his hand close to his pistol as he approached the doorway. No one was there. Baekhyun took an assuring breath to calm his bristling nerves, before slipping through the slightly ajar metal door. As he entered, he couldn’t see much, aside from a dim light coming from a staircase further away.

Baekhyun stifled a jump as he felt the cold metal pressed against his neck. He glanced sideways, meeting the eyes of a man not much taller than himself, his hair pale and his eyes blank. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, thinking through his response several times before opening his mouth.

“I’m here on business with Mr. Kim,” Baekhyun stated, his tone as self-assured as possible.

The man eyed him briefly before nodding curtly to the stairs, lowering the gun from Baekhyun’s head, still gripping it tightly. Baekhyun did as asked, the man trailing him closely as he made his way up the stairs.

After climbing two staircases, things looked different. Everything was much bigger and more brightly lit, something well hidden from the outside, and surprisingly nicely decorated compared to the rest of the building. He was pushed on too quickly to look around, stopping outside two bigger doors. The man’s eyes shifted between Baekhyun’s eyes to the floor intently, and Baekhyun quickly nodded in understanding. Baekhyun stayed put as the man slipped inside, hearing muffled voices and laughs from inside, the sound diminished by the rowdy shouting from the floor above.

After hearing a muffled - but familiar ‘send him in’, the doors opened again, and Baekhyun entered cautiously.

“Byun Baekhyun,” the voice greeted, tone confident and calm.

Baekhyun vaguely recognised the face sitting behind the big wooden desk that greeted him as he entered, as well as the vague smell of alcohol and cheap cologne that hit him upon entering.

“Mr Kim,” he greeted to maintain a level of formality, even though he been in contact with Kim Jongin several times before.

A taller man stood comfortably leaned against the wooden desk, offering a curt, cold smile to Baekhyun as he entered.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything,” Baekhyun said, uncertainly, eyeing the other man, who leaned up to stand. “I could-“

“Suho was just leaving,” Kim Jongin said dismissively, sharing a quick look with the other man, a look carrying a meaning that Baekhyun had yet to decipher. “Please, sit,” Jongin cooed warmly, gesturing to a chair in front of the desk, as “Suho” walked past him. Baekhyun did as asked.

“You too, Taeyong, we’ll be fine”

As the door closed behind them, Kim Jongin sighed and pushed himself up slowly, standing to lean against the empty wall behind him. He was dressed more lavishly than Baekhyun remembered – granted, the last time their paths had crossed was a few years ago now. They had worked together briefly for a relatively small contractor, which had ended pretty badly for both of them. It was around that time Baekhyun had started gaining some unwanted attention from the feds. Nonetheless, he guessed the more… _expensive_ style of clothing was pretty fitting for the head of one of South Korea’s biggest criminal enterprises.

The tattoos had also grown in number since last time he saw him.

“So,” Kim Jongin began, his upper lip twitching, “nervous?”

“Don’t be a dick, Jongin.”

Kim Jongin ignored Baekhyun’s answer. “Kyungsoo has informed me about you. And your record is well known,” Kim Jongin stated matter-of-factly after a moment of silence at Baekhyun, who unconsciously shifted in his chair, “and I trust Kyungsoo,” he continued, causing Baekhyun to snort quietly.

“So do I,” Baekhyun replied, fidgeting with the fold on his jacket, “So I assume you’d pay good for shit like this-“

Jongin interrupted him with a chuckle, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, baby,” he mocked, scanning Baekhyun’s face for an offended reaction - which he got-, “pay is the smallest issue at the moment.” He returned to his chair.

“Well, actually-“

“Hand over your phone,” Kim Jongin interrupted, not allowing Baekhyun to continiue. Baekhyun, visibly annoyed, eventually complied, reluctantly sliding it over the table. Kim Jongin smiled briefly, sliding into his chair before ripping out the sim card before Baekhyun could protest and inserting it into a device connected to his laptop. Baekhyun stood up, shocked, but before he could say anything conveying how offended he was, Kim Jongin over-voiced him, “Sit down, brat, before something unfortunate happens,” he boomed, not looking away from the screen.

Baekhyun took a deep breath before reluctantly sitting down again, brimming with anger. After a minute or two, Jongin pulled out the sim card and put it back into Baekhyun’s phone, tapping it gently before handing it back to him.

“What was that good for?” Baekhyun said quietly and tensely before shoving the phone back into his pocket.

“Just making sure Kyungsoo wasn’t setting us up,” Jongin cooed calmly, shutting his laptop with a click.

“You sure seems to trust Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun snorted mockingly.

“I’m not an idiot. Now, I’m assuming Kyungsoo told you something about this job.” Baekhyun simply nodded, and Jongin continued, “Your mission is to take out Kwon Ji-yong - of course as cleanly as possible. You are not to take out anyone else, unless it’s absolutely necessary,” Jongin fidgeted lazily with a pen as he spoke, taking a brief breath, “If you succeed, your pay will be 150,000 us dollars,” he said nonchalantly.

Baekhyun’s mouth fell comically open as he took a short breath. 150,000 USD? Did he hear that right? With that kind of money, he’d almost be set for life. That’s more than he’d ever been paid for a single mission, ever. And _“taking out a member of the Myung-pa administration”_ was a bit of an undersell on Kyungsoo’s part.

Jongin, seeing Baekhyun’s face, continued, “Of course, if something does happens to you, you will not mention us in any way, or we will have to take care of you in accordance to, uh, security protocol,” Baekhyun flinched slightly, “but from what I’ve heard, you’re supposed to be pretty good.”

“I am,” Baekhyun said defensively.

“Good,” Kim Jongin smiled, resting his elbows on the table, “so, accepted?”

Baekhyun breathed sharply. This really wasn’t a great idea, in principle. Jiyong is not a man that that you just “take out”, like any other target, having the largest gang in South Korea under his feet. Baekhyun had worked so long and hard to keep himself separate from these kinds of gang wars. But with that kind of money, it was tempting. Very tempting.

He snapped out of his distressed train of thought as he noticed Jongin staring at him, clearly waiting for the words he was always inevitably going to hear.

“Consider it done.”

 

 

 

\----

 

 

 

Baekhyun allowed himself to breathe in the late night air.

Seoul was well alive with nightlife, something Baekhyun planned on utilising. Through weeks of extensive digging, he managed to find out where several administration members planned on being tonight. Including Jiyong. That’s how Baekhyun found himself stood outside a relatively small but popular club in the outskirts of Songpa, a small handgun strapped to the inside of his jacket, and a hidden earpiece with a speed-dial to Chanyeol nuzzled in his ear.

He managed to evade the bouncer due to previously made arrangements. As Baekhyun pushed through, he let his eyes wander over the interior of the dark club, the bass from the nearby speakers thudding through his chest as he with great difficulty made his way over to the bar. He looked around for familiar faces, well aware that he most likely had eyes on him the second he stepped foot in the establishment.

All he had to do was find his contact. Even in a tightly strung operation like Myung-pa, there were ways to get through - weak members with little to lose that could be groomed. Considering how uptight and clean he had been, he was as confident he could be about this. While he waited, he turned to the bartender, ordering a couple of tequila shots, sitting down on a barstool. He checked the time. 22:34. 20 minutes. He kept a close eye around the club, which at the moment was devoid of familiar faces, which probably didn’t really mean anything, he reasoned with himself as he threw back a shot.

After a while of waiting he noticed someone bent over the bar a few meters away, who had been looking at Baekhyun for a short while now. Baekhyun grew tense, an uncomfortable feeling pooling in his stomach. Had he missed something? After a quick glance, the man’s face was completely unfamiliar. So how would he be part of the administration? And why would he be so close if he was-

“Bad day?” The tone was confident and serene, and now unsettlingly close. Baekhyun felt a red sensation creep up his face, turning hesitantly towards the man. “You could say so,” he took a brief pause, his eyes scanning the body of the slightly shorter man, “How long have you been watching me?” Baekhyun asked in reply. If this man actually was Myung-pa, the best thing he could do was play along and hope for the best.

“Long enough,” the shorter man replied softly, an answer that didn’t exactly satisfy Baekhyun, leaning over the bar and poking aimlessly at Baekhyun’s remaining shot glass. Baekhyun’s eyes met the stranger’s, and he had to bite his tongue not to say something brash. _Your eyes are the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen,_ is what he impulsively wanted to say, before realising that he was technically working. This really wasn’t the time for spontaneous hook-ups. He blushed even more as he noticed the amused tilt of the stranger’s lips at his dumbfounded expression.

“The kind of people who come here alone usually don’t sit like dead fish by the bar,” the man continued in the absence of Baekhyun’s answer, downing Baekhyun’s remaining shot without question.

Baekhyun’s eyes narrowed slightly in response. “I’m not here alone,” he quickly replied – his patchy attempt at damage control not fooling anyone as he returned his focus to the task of locating his contact.

“’That so?” the man chuckled.

“Yes, it is,” Baekhyun repeated, “He is, uh,-” Baekhyun struggled to focus. Eventually he glared at the man, “Why do you care anyway?” If this man was Myung-pa, there was no real point in asking, but Baekhyun was still unsure. He didn’t recognise him.

His heartbeat was quickening.

“You’re awfully cute, you know?” the stranger chuckled, and Baekhyun felt his insides turn at the sound of the soft voice.

Baekhyun didn’t respond, simply looked away to hide his reddening face, looking distraughtly for his contact, despite it being before their agreed upon time.

“Let’s go somewhere quiet,” he continued, locking eyes with Baekhyun. He really seemed adamant about this. His eyes were captivating, the dark, deceiving flashes of emerald perfectly framed by the few curls that almost reached them. Baekhyun struggled to focus, scanning the floor once more.

He doubted Jiyong knew about his presence, and if he did, he probably wouldn’t do anything about it. Not yet. He was couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling pooling in his stomach, along with a tingling warm feeling he couldn’t quite interpret. He really should stop letting his dick getting in the way of his brain like this.

Eventually Baekhyun reluctantly pushed himself up, earning a small smirk from the stranger’s face. “Come on.” He led the way through the crowd, Baekhyun attentively trailing behind him. The deafening bass from the nearby speaker pulsed through Baekhyun’s body. His hand instinctively drew close to his concealed gun.

The stranger led Baekhyun to a more quiet room with fewer people, places to sit, seemingly more the bar part of the establishment, where the bass-heavy music was significantly quieter. The stranger sat down by a table close to the bar, and Baekhyun reluctantly sat down as well. Baekhyun couldn’t see anyone close by that could be deemed relevant, and allowed himself to relax momentarily, his eyes finding their way back to the stranger in front of him.

“I don’t believe I ever introduced myself,” the stranger smiled - a big, serene smile - a smile that had part of Baekhyun keening, “Kim Minseok.”

Baekhyun stopped himself before saying anything stupid. “I, uh,” he took a brief breath, trying to think of something, “I’m Jimin,” he stumbled on his words - remembering the name of Chanyeol’s last hook-up just in time, eventually croaking out a quiet “pleased to meet you,” his ears a bit flushed. The man chuckled softly.

 _Minseok._ Minseok was a good name. It left a good taste on his tongue. He wondered what else would taste good on his tongue….

Why was he acting like this? His eyes flickered nervously through the people around them.

The man stopped a waiter, placing an order of two bourbons. The way the words rolled off his tongue with such ease almost made it seemed like he owned the place. His whole demeanour made him seem so in control of everything.

He glanced discretely at his watch. 22:48.Nothing was wrong yet, Baekhyun soothed himself. When Baekhyun looked up, the stranger’s eyes met his own. He aggressively fought the blush that creeped up his cheeks.

He kind of felt like he was drowning on dry land.

“So,” Minseok started, a small smile pulling on his lips, “What brings you here?”

“A friend,” Baekhyun answered _way_ too quickly, wanting to narrow his eyes at the way the stranger grinned in return, “My friend is here, I was helping him get some girl...” Baekhyun quickly conjured. After a few, questioning moments, he added:

“I’m not usually shy,” he mumbled in reservation.

“Mhm,” Minseok commented, taking a sip of his bourbon as he spoke. “It’s very cute, don’t apologise.”

Baekhyun groaned, rolling his eyes in embarrassed irritation. Before he could retaliate, a crackling in his ear made him jump. _“Any progress?”_ Chanyeol’s voice streamed directly into his ear. _Shit_. He returned his glance to across the table, where the stranger was sipping on his bourbon, raising an eyebrow in question. _Play it off._ Baekhyun smiled, looking around once more. He couldn’t stay for long. Baekyun tried to cover for his unusual behaviour. “You never said why you’re here,” he asked, trying to avert Minseok’s attention from his nervousness. _“Baekhyun??“_ Baekhyun cursed Chanyeol over and over in his head.

“Well at the moment, you,” he took a sip of his bourbon. Baekhyun cursed the man’s smooth talk. Inconveniently, it was starting to get to his dick. Before Baekhyun could respond, a familiar face in the corner of his vision caught his attention.

His contact. Heading into the crowd.

He panicked, quickly sliding out from his seat, “Uh, I’m so sorry, but I think my friend needs me,” he said nervously and apologetically, “It’s been a pl-“

“Next time, - Jimin.” Baekhyun’s eyes widened with embarrassment as he felt the quick brush of lips on his own. The man’s lips were warm and suffocating, and Baekhyun momentarily forgot how to breathe. And just like that, he was gone. _Shit_ , Baekhyun cursed, struggling to regain focus. He felt winded, the brief kiss having sent a small shudder of arousal through his body.

He quickly turned, proceeding to the task of locating his contact. It didn’t take long. Pushing through the pulsing crowd, he eventually made his way to who he was looking for. The man jumped slightly as he saw Baekhyun, quickly proceeding to reach into his pocket. Baekhyun, positive they were being watched, leaned into the man, brushing up against him, a hand sliding up his neck. The man got the hint, and discretely slipped a usb-drive into Baekhyun’s pocket. Baekhyun brushed his lips to the man’s ear, uttering a silent _“good job”_ and _“you’ll remember what I told you about what happens if you slip up?”_ through the pulsing music, getting a curt, nervous nod from the shorter man. He discretely slipped the cash into his pocket, proceeding to make his way out of the club. He had seen a few notable people he recognised, but no one high up in the administration. He thought.

As he finally pushed outside, he took a deep breath of the fresh, cold air, shaking slightly. As he was walking away from the club and to where he had parked his ride, he went through his pockets, making sure neither Minseok or his contact had unnoticably taken anything, continuously making sure he wasn’t being tailed. Everything was clear. As he buried the usb-drive in a deep pocket, close to his gun, his fingers brushed over a small slip of paper. It had a number scribbled on it. Baekhyun could feel himself blushing in the cold night. The man was obviously beautiful, and without doubt very charming, but Baekhyun was no stranger to either. So why was he so flustered? He soon found where he had parked his ride. He put on his helmet and kicked his bike into gear. As he took off, he turned on his earpiece again, “Chanyeol, I need Kyungsoo to look up a name and a number.”

 

 

\---

 

 

How Kyungsoo had ended up on Jongin’s personal list of favourite operators had always been a bit of a mystery to Baekhyun. Kyungsoo had started off as any other contractor, not much more than an eraser of unfortunate miss-haps. And despite Baekhyun warning him over and over about the dangers of getting involved in gang-wars, Kyungsoo had slowly gotten himself nestled into Jongin’s network. Presumably that what led to Jongin breaking down the door to their apartment at 02:47 in the morning carrying what looked like the body of Kyungsoo in his arms, closely trailed by a blood-stained man that Baekhyun quickly recognised as Suho. Baekhyun couldn’t make out much from Jogin’s ramble – just that there’d been an ambush, and that there had been an injury.

A gunshot-wound.

Kyungsoo’s gunshot wound.

Baekhyun simply stared in shock as he watched Kyungsoo’s blood pulse through his fingers as Chanyeol yelled at him to stop the bleeding as he ran off to get something. The remains of the porcelain that had been on the table before Jongin pushed it off laid scattered around his feet, as he tried to follow whatever Chanyeol told him to. Jongin was screaming into his phone, whilst Suho was watching the door. Time seemed to be slipping through his fingers, but he couldn’t do anything about it. As Baekhyun’s eyes met the fear and anger that pulsed through Jongin’s, he slowly started getting an idea as to why Kyungsoo had grown so close to Jongin recently. He was starting to suspect that Kyungsoo had become a bit more than just a hitman to Jongin.

After an eternity of just standing over the pale, shaking mess that was Kyungsoo, occasionally interrupted by rounds to the bathroom or kitchen cupboards to get Chanyeol whatever he needed, he removed his trembling hands after Chanyeol asked him to leave. He stood there frozen for several moments before doing so – looking like nothing more than a frightened child, staring uselessly at his own blood-soaked clothes.

Stood over the kitchen sink, he revelled in the comforting heat of the steaming water, passively watching Kyungsoo’s warm blood seep into the drain interwoven with the steaming, hot water falling from the tap onto his hands. The creeping realisation that had been looming in the background the entire time was slowly starting to surface:

All these weeks of tracking, tracing down leads, trying to conceal his identity: _gone._

As much as he appreciated Jongin’s efforts to save Kyungsoo, he couldn’t help but curse his contractor repeatedly in his head. _Kim Jongin_ showing up at his apartment? If Myung-pa didn’t already know about his location, or his identity, they were soon going to find out. Reality had slipped so far away as he got lost in thought that Jongin had to turn the tap off for him. As his eyes met Jongin’s, he knew that Jongin knew what he’d done. But no apologies or further instructions about what the hell he was supposed to do now were provided. Apparently this was just Baekhyun’s problem now. Jongin simply left him to sit by the side Kyungsoo’s unconscious body, desperately clutching his hand with his own.

Kyungsoo was going to be fine – Chanyeol had seen to that. But now he had to figure out how to work from here, a prospect that left an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He let out a shaky sigh, his eyes panning over the darkness of the room to find Suho passed out on their couch. He had planned _everything:_ next week, Ji-yong, Lisa, Jongdae and some other administration members were supposed to administer a big cocaine deal in the south side of town. But all of that was off the table now.

His mind returned to him again as the dull buzzing sound against wood drew his eyes to the kitchen table. He picked up his phone reluctantly, his eyes looking at the text that was illuminating the screen.

_[Minseok]_

_Dinner at my place next week?_

Baekhyun swallowed, letting out a small, warm sigh. It didn’t really sound like a question as much as it sounded like Minseok had already decided for him. Despite everything that had happened, a warm, tingling feeling still settled in his stomach whenever he thought of Minseok. But despite Kyungsoo’s efforts to run his number and name through every conceivable data-base he could find, despite the fact that he came up empty handed, he knew he should wait. You could never know what lengths people went to erase their record. He closed his phone with a reluctant sigh.

 

 

_17.56_

 

 

After the trade-deal lead had to be scrapped, Baekhyun worked off the information he had to map out Jiyong’s next movements. He had to strike sooner rather than later. Chanyeol had agreed to act as backup, an extra pair of eyes.

Baekhyun soon found the old office-building overseeing an empty parking lot in the outskirts of the city, the threat of rain hanging in the air. The cold city air felt suffocating as he made his way inside the dark, stale building. The place reeked of abandonment. It was perfect. Almost a bit too much so. After securing the bottom floor thoroughly, he began the climb up the dwindling stairs, his legs aching by the time he made it all the way to the top floor of the abandoned and rotten office building.

“All clear,” he mumbled, hearing an affirmative answer in his earpiece.

Here he had a good, concealed view of the parking garage where Jiyong, Jongdae and Yifan were supposed to show up to meet with some affiliates. Baekhyun opened his bag, setting up his M25 sniper rifle by the window, attaching an additional thermal scope.

Now began the agonizing wait. Baekhyun stood by the window, feeling the suffocating silence, only occasionally broken by Chanyeol. 5 minutes. Then 15. Then 30.

He ground his teeth, his heartbeat quickening and his nerves tingling as he watched the empty parking house 30 meters below through his thermal scope. After a few more agonizing minutes of silence, he heard Chanyeol’s voice after the crackling of static:

 _“Movement on the south side.”_ Baekhyun adjusted his scope, _“Target’s coming your way.”_ And sure enough, Baekhyun saw several bright red and yellow figures moving into view through the thermal scope. He flicked down the thermal scope, only to spot what he was looking for.

The man with crooked, white hair in front. Several weeks of work, just for _this_. Baekhyun took a deep breath, his heartbeat quickening when the target moving momentarily out of view, then back again. Just as he was going to pull, the loud, tense noise of Chanyeol’s voice broke the silence,

 _“Baekhyun, I think there’s movement-“_ the voice-line broke briefly, _“-building-”_

“What??”, Baekhyun’s heart was beating fast, “Chanyeol, repeat-“

Baekhyun froze as he heard muffled echo of steps from the stairs behind him. In a moment’s notice he quickly loaded his handgun with a snap, just before the flash-bang went off in front of him. Baekhyun stumbled, a deafening ringing in his ears, unable to see or hear anything but white light and his own heartbeat for several moments as he grasped for his gun, crouching, trying to regain his balance. _Shit, shit, shit-_ Unable to hear Chanyeol as he stumbled forward, he finally spotting a blurred figure moving into the room. He rushed forward, slamming the man and pulling him into a chokehold, hearing the man growl as Baekhyun caught his breath.

The sound of glass breaking behind him was enough of a distraction, allowing the man under him to break his grasp and floor him, taking his legs out from beneath him, sending his back to the floor. He gasped as the air was pushed from his lungs, a hard heel to his wrist forcing the gun out of his hand, clattering to the floor.

Then everything went black.

 

 

\---

 

 

 

The only thing he felt were intense thuds of pain shooting through his head, in the interval of his distant heartbeat. Everything was dark and cold, he couldn’t feel anything but tinglings of pain shooting throughout his whole body. But he couldn’t see.

His hands. He felt his arms straining behind his back, and his wrists straining against something sharp and cold. His left side was pressed against something hard. What was happening? He couldn’t think, even less remember where he was. After a few, agonizing moments, light began to seep into his eyes as he carefully pried his eyes open. He groaned at the feeling of dried blood on his left eyelid, and groaned weakly as blood sept into his eye.

Everything was spinning, and he felt like he was going to throw up.

 _Where is Chanyeol?,_ was the first thought that pierced its way through the fog that was his mind. Eventually, as his eyes adjusted to the light, he began to make out contours of what seemed like feet. Just inches from his face. He felt muffled panic flood his system, as he realised he couldn’t move.

As the feet of the person in front of him suddenly went away, the feeling of panic began to spread. Where was he? What had happened? Where was Chanyeol? Vague memories of previous events began to emerge, an explosion…

Before he could finish his thoughts, the loud noise of a door being slammed opened made him jump, lying on the floor in a trembling mess. He heard several footsteps, and vague, muffled voices. Shortly thereafter Baekhyun was abruptly being pulled up by his elbows, causing his body to scream in pain. He took a sharp breath, his breathing hoarse and pitched, feeling sick as the world around was spinning. He raised his head slowly, trying to see from his clouded vision.

In front of him was a desk. Several people were standing behind it.

One person was sitting, a man with white hair and sharp eyes. A sense of familiarity struck Baekhyun. Eventually a horrible feeling began pooling in his gut as he realised who he was standing in front of.

_Shit._

“Byun Baekhyun, right?” The way the words exited the man’s mouth made Baekhyun wince. Smooth and vicious, and spoken in a way that perfectly conveyed how little power Baekhyun had. Baekhyun didn’t answer, just narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on the outlines of his face.

“I can only imagine what a _fat_ sum Jongin offered you for my head,” the man continued in the absence of an answer, “tell me, how much was it?” Suddenly the man was right in front of Baekhyun’s face, holding up his chin with his index finger. Baekhyun felt panic and anger spread through his body as the man he was hired to kill was looking down at him. His eyes reminded Baekhyun of a shark: dark, blank, and devoid of any signs of compassion.

Baekhyun let out a hiccupped croak as Jiyong gripped his jaw firmly, his nails digging into Baekhyun’s skin. Baekhyun wanted to sob as pain shot through his face. “I asked you a question,” he repeated, anger seeping through his voice. Baekhyun struggled to breathe in trying to speak, but Jiyong didn’t want to wait, instead kicking him hard in the chest and sending him back first to the ground. Blinding pain shot through Baekhyun’s back and head as the air was pushed from his lungs, his cold handcuffs slamming hard on his wrists. He breathed a hitched breath before being pulled up again, his world spinning, and the pain excruciating as he felt weak tears mixing with blood on his face.

“When I ask questions, I expect answers,” he stated, his voice more controlled than before. Baekhyun collected himself in trying to speak, breathing shallow breaths, before eventually pushing out “150…”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite hear you,” Jiyong shot back, and a horrible panicked feeling settled in his stomach as he heard someone chuckling gleefully. “150 000 dollars,” Baekhyun repeated, a little louder this time, his voice a little less shaky.

“Not bad! Not bad at all, actually,” Jiyong chuckled, and Baekhyun breathed short panicked breaths as pain shot through his arms from being pulled up behind him, “although for that price, you’d think Jongin would be able to get someone who knew how to pick decent contacts..,” Jiyong mocked, maintaining eye contact with Baekhyun, who was on the verge of throwing up because of the metallic taste in his mouth, a defeated, angry feeling pushing through his chest.

After awaiting a response and not getting one, Jiyong pushed himself up from the desk once more. “I think Jongin needs to be taught a lesson on monetary responsibility.” Jiyong tore Baekhyun from the grip of someone else, dumping him face first onto the cold stone floor. Baekhyun was blinded by the pain, his face on fire as blood seeped from his nose. With Jiyong’s foot pressing down on his back, Baekhyun struggled to breathe, letting out hiccupped sobs as blood seeped from his tongue from him biting it accidentally. “Please,” Baekhyun let out in a weak, pathetic sob between short breaths. He heard the click of a camera, before Jiyong kicked him over to his back, his foot pressing own on his chest and letting out a laugh that had Baekhyun wincing.

“Boss, don’t be so harsh…” a soft voice began.

A horrible feeling hit Baekhyun at the sound of a familiar voice, his stomach dropping like a stone. _No…_ He felt utterly defeated. It couldn’t be…

Jiyong snapped around, still pressing harder on Baekhyun’s chest. “What did you say, Xiumin?”

Baekhyun couldn’t place the feeling in his chest. Betrayal, horror, shame? Out of the corner of his eyes, he could make out the face of Minseok, who met his eyes briefly. _I knew it. **I fucking knew it.**_ Burning anger spread slowly through his chest.

_Fuck._

The voice was hesitant, “I just thought we should preserve him, that’s all.”

Jiyong glanced down at Baekhyun’s bloodied face.

“What an excellent, idea, Xiumin,” Jiyong mocked. He removed his foot, allowing Baekhyun to take a deep breath, spitting out blood.

“Although,” Jiyong continued after a beat of silence, “almost makes me think you’ve grown sweet towards little Baekhyun here,” Baekhyun was trembling in pain, cursing Minseok in his head.

“Of course not,” Minseok mumbled.

A small smirk pulled on Jiyong’s lips. “That’s great, Xiumin. Then you can take over.”

Jiyong stepped back, sitting down in the chair behind the desk.

Minseok’s eyes flickered for a moment, briefly meeting Baekhyun’s, and then Jiyong’s. A few moments later, he made his way over to Baekhyun, and Baekhyun started breathing harder again, knowing what was coming.

The cold and empty look in Minseok’s eyes were too expensive a reminder about the downsides of getting involved in this stupid gang war.

Baekhyun wanted to sob as Minseok bent over, picking Baekhyun up by the elbows and turning him to face Jiyong, who looked nothing but pleased with himself at the look in Baekhyun’s eyes.

Jiyong seemed to be testing Minseok.

Baekhyun wondered in vain if everything with Minseok was set up.

Most likely.

“I’m going to ask you some questions, Baekhyun,” Jiyong said in a calm tone that seeped with mockery and cruelty, which made Baekhyun whimper pathetically. Minseok’s grip was firm, but not as harsh as Jiyong’s, “And you’re going to answer them,” he continued.

Jiyong met Baekhyun’s eyes, his eyes carrying a look that promised pain. Baekhyun breathed hard through his clenched teeth.

“Who else did Jongin hire?”

Baekhyun’s mouth felt dry.

“Just me,” he breathed.

Jiyong looked up at Minseok, who moments later pushed him down harshly on his knees. Baekhyun shouted as the sharp pain from shot up from his knees. He let out a desperate sob as Minseok held onto his upper arms behind him. He could see the irritated look on Jiyong’s face.

“I thought we agreed that you’d answer my questions, Baekhyun.” Baekhyun’s world was spinning, holding onto the feeling of Minseok’s hands on his arms, holding him up. Part of him wanted to see his face, if only for just a moment.

“I’m not lying,” Baekhyun pushed out weakly.

A few moments Minseok kneed Baekhyun hard in the back, knocking the air from his lungs once again. The skin on his wrists was now bleeding as the handcuffs were tearing into it as Minseok held onto Baekhyun, who desperately struggled to catch his breath.

“So no one was on the other end of your earpiece,” Jiyong responded, raising his eyebrows in disbelief as he met Baekhyun’s bloodshot eyes. Baekhyun swallowed. The words of Jongin about confidentiality flashed in front of his eyes.

“That.. he wasn’t hired, he…” Baekhyun pushed out the words, aware of how fake they sounded, despite their truthfulness.

“Isn’t that awfully convenient?” Jiyong hummed, tapping his fingers on the edge of the desk, clearly losing his patience. Baekhyun was struggling to not slouch, despite how little strength he had in his back. He didn’t want to be defeated. Not like this. He would protect Chanyeol. _Empty promises,_ a small voice in his head responded.

Jiyong seemed to signal something to Minseok, who moments later shoved Baekhyun face first over the desk, holding him down as Baekhyun struggled to continue breathing. He could see Minseok’s face through the corners of his eye. Minseok was looking away, refusing to look at the man he was holding down.

A mix between fear and utter disgust surged in Baekhyun, maybe even a bit of doubt.

His line of thought was quickly interrupted by the chilling feeling of a sharp object scraping his scalp gently. Baekhyun was shaking, trembling, his lack of composure made painfully clear to everyone.

“I’ll ask one more time, Baekhyun.” Jiyong moved the knife to his nose, directing him to look at him. Baekhyun was breathing quick, shallow breaths, painfully aware of how close Jiyong’s knife was to his eyes as Jiyong gripped his jaw tightly. “Who was in your earpiece?” Baekhyun’s breathing hitched, still remaining quiet.

Baekhyun desperately tried to muffle his scream by closing his mouth as Jiyong dragged the knife down his forehead and nose. The pain was blinding, as was the warm, thick blood seeped down his face. He was biting his lip so hard in trying not to scream that he bit through that too. He was panicking, just like Jiyong wanted.

As Baekhyun let out a hiccupped gasp trying to not swallow his own blood, Minseok let go, leaving Baekhyun to fall to the floor. Baekhyun saw Jiyong’s facial expression from the corner of his eye, an expression he couldn’t quite place. Eventually Jiyong pushed himself up from the chair, making his way around the desk, and out the door. Baekhyun was once again being pulled up by his elbows by someone who wasn’t Minseok, and was dragged out of the room, and through a corridor, then thrown on the floor of another room. Through the dizziness and burning pain, Jiyong’s muffled _“make yourself at home, you’ll be here a while,”_ echoed in his empty head. As he raised his head from the floor, he saw someone shutting the door behind him.

It wasn’t Minseok.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains torture scenes  
> This chapter is very short, but the next chapter won't be :)

_Chapter 2_

Panic shot through Baekhyun’s body as a loud, jarring noise burst through his cell, before he realised where he was. He closed his eyes, as if it would shut out the noise that was slowly driving him insane. It was the fifth time that day. Probably. Maybe.

He took a deep, shaky breath, knowing that he wasn’t going to be allowed to sleep any time soon. Every time he had managed to fall asleep, that jarring sound abruptly tore him back to reality.

He tried pushing himself up, which turned out to be quite a challenge, his arms behind his back and all. The skin on his wrists tore up any time he moved, and every inch of his body ached in pain as he tried to push himself up against the wall. He winced as he felt the skin around the handcuffs tear again.

He eventually leaned his head against the wall, pushing back the urge to cry, as any time he moved his face, the cut on his face started bleeding again.

Baekhyun had no idea how long he’d been left in the cell. His sense of time was deteriorating, partly due him being denied to sleep for more than an hour at a time, partly because of the dehydration.

He sighed, shutting his eyes again. This lesson on risk-taking tasted a bit too bitterly. He knew that Jongin would make no effort to help him. He had been hired as a shot-in-the-dark, a one off risk. A disposable gamble. He knew Jongin saw him as nothing more than a disposable one-off chance from the beginning. Maybe Jongin had even expected Baekhyun to fail.

The only chance he had of getting out was telling on Chanyeol, which he wouldn’t do. He assumed Chanyeol got away, but it could just be Jiyong messing with him, trying to convince him to betray his friends, only to have them hear it.

Eventually his mind pandered over to the subject of Minseok, and all his repressed anger and shame bubbled to the surface. He had been blinded by his own desire, and now he was paying the price. It was probably a set up from the beginning, and he had fallen for it, face first. He felt weak and ashamed beyond belief, and the way Jiyong taunted him with it…

He was snapped out of his trail of thoughts by the abrupt tapping of knuckles on steel. He tensed up, narrowing his eyes as light seeped into his dark, stuffy cell moments later.

He couldn’t see properly, blinded by his lack of exposure to light, and flinched as the door closed behind whoever had just entered.

“Hello, Baekhyun,”

Baekhyun winced in disgust at the sound of Minseok’s voice, turning his face away from the man standing in front of him. Minseok didn’t say anything, settling in the silence that left so much unsaid.

“Why are you here?” Baekhyun eventually murmured, disgust seeping through his voice. Providing no answer, Minseok squatted down in front of him, causing Baekhyun to back up as much as he could, retreating further back into his small, crouched and pathetic figure - having no desire to interact with the man in front of him.

“May I?” Minseok looked carefully at Baekhyun, holding up a damp towel in suggestion. Baekhyun didn’t answer, just turned his head away, his jaw clenched, wishing desperately that Minseok would just leave.

But Minseok didn’t, and Baekhyun eventually let out a curt sound indicating his permission.

Minseok gently directed Baekhyun’s chin towards him with his hand, holding up the damp towel to his face. As the warm cloth made contact with the open wound on Baekhyun’s face, Baekhyun flinched, whimpering in pain as Minseok promptly wiped away the caked blood from his face, including the self-inflicted cut on his lip. It hurt like hell, but Baekhyun didn’t have the composure to move as Minseok held him in place.

When Minseok pulled away, Baekhyun felt it a little bit easier to breathe and see. His feelings of gratefulness were quickly drowned out by disgust and betrayal that returned as he made eye contact with the man in front of him.

The man who most likely was the reason for being here in the first place.

“I’m sorry it came to this,” Minseok eventually mumbled, watching as Baekhyun turned away.

“Sure,” Baekhyun chuckled weakly, grossed out. Somehow, he had managed to get himself attached to even more strings that could be pulled.

“Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t know?” Minseok’s voice was calm and composed, his gaze lingering on Baekhyun's face.

Baekhyun raised his eyebrows briefly, “Probably not,” he mumbled mockingly.

Minseok sighed, rubbing his neck. Baekhyun was disgusted by the fact that despite all that Minseok had done to him, he couldn’t help but somehow find him enchanting. In a gross way.

“I’m not expecting you to believe me,” Minseok paused, “I’m sure you will, eventually,”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Baekhyun spat, glaring at Minseok’s face.

Minseok didn’t answer, simple held up a water bottle in suggestion, and Baekhyun, reminded of his rehydration, vanquished all looks of disgust with one filled desperation. Minseok unscrewed the cork, holding the bottle up to Baekhyun’s mouth, who desperately gulped it down. Minseok gently held up Baekhyun’s chin to make sure he didn’t spill any, as the bottle’s content quickly disappeared down Baekhyun’s throat.

Baekhyun shook slightly from the cold of the liquid, but thankful nonetheless, breathing a little bit easier.

Minseok deflty wiped Baekhyun’s mouth, conjuring a sudden rush of feelings in Baekhyun – a mix of embarresment and something he hadn’t quite learned to interpret. He looked away.

Minseok stood up, turning to leave.

“I’m trying to help you, Baekhyun,” he mumbled, looking back at Baekhyun.

Baekhyun didn’t answer, but before Minseok left, he mumbled out a silent, resentful “thank you”. Minseok turned, giving Baekhyun something reminiscent of a smile.

 

 

\----

 

 

 

Baekhyun’s eyes flew open at the loud noise of the door to his cell slamming open hit him. Two large men stormed into the cell, and when they reached for him he flinched back in vain, as they pulled him up violently, pain shooting through his arms as they promptly dragged him out of the cell. His eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dramatic shift in light, so he fell multiple times as he was pushed up a flight of stairs, pain rushing up his legs at every step.

He was promptly dragged into a larger room with plenty of people in it. Baekhyun felt what felt like thousands of eyes on him and hearing murmurings echo through the room as he was roughly dragged into the middle of the large room, then subsequently dumped face first on the floor, not being able to break the fall with his hands. He winced as he could feel the wounds on his wrists tearing open again, his head spinning from dehydration and malnutrition.

Before he could adjust, he was roughly being pulled up again, causing him to groan in pain as he was forced onto his knees.

Raising his spinning head, his eyes immediately fell on Jiyong – his body leaned back in the chair in front of him, his face as expressionless as ever. He also saw several people he’d recognised from before around him, including Minseok, who wasn’t looking at him.

Jiyong pushed himself up from his chair, taking a few steps forward towards Baekhyun, who was stifling his trembling, struggling in his feverish state to mainatin eye contact with the man he had been hired to kill.

Jiyong walked past Baekhyun, leaving him to just stare down at the floor, feeling the echo of Jiyong’s steps fill the large, otherwise mostly empty room.

“I hear you’re adjusting well,” Jiyong mused, the muffled sound of laughs made Baekhyun wince, “That makes me very happy,” Jiyong continued deceivingly softly, continuing to pace.

He couldn’t exactly pinpoint the exact moment he noticed the peculiar look in Minseok’s eyes as he watched his defeated body slouch in front of his boss. His mind urged to explore it, delve into it, masochistically perhaps. He wasn’t sure.

Jiyong’s fingers brushed distraughtly over Baekhyun’s scalp, sending a shudder through Bakehyun, “That is why I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that your friend is joining you soon,” he hummed, looking down at Baekhyun.

Baekhyun’s blood suddenly froze. Did he mean Chanyeol? That couldn’t be true. Was this just Jiyong’s conjecture? Baekhyun’s breath felt heavy and inadequately thin in his chest as the long contained anger in this chest bubbled to the surface.

Jiyong squatted down in front of him. Baekhyun couldn’t stifle his trembling, refusing to meet Jiyong's eyes. Jiyong gripped his jaw firmly, causing pain to rush from his jaw. Baekhyun’s breath hitched in pain, as he was forced to look at Jiyong, meeting eyes that were gleaming with victory, and something much more vicious.

“If he makes it here alive, that is,” Jiyong hummed, a small smirk pulling on the corners of his lips.

Baekhyun finally snapped, his anger taking rushing over him as he bit down hard on Jiyong’s hand, who flinched away with a yell.

Before Baekhyun could collect his breath, Jiyong promptly kicked him in the face, sending him backwards, his hands and back slamming against the hard floor. He gasped as the air left his lungs, glowing white pain bristling through his face and body, falling over on his side and coughing out blood from biting his own tongue. He could hear Jiyong’s steps approaching and felt panic rushing over him again.

But Jiyong was un-cuffing his hands, throwing the cuffs aside on the floor. The open wounds on his wrists were burning, his arms stiff and sore from being forced behind his back for days on end. The brimming sound of voices and faint laughter echoed as his head spun in nausea. He tried dragging his hands forward to his chest, but before he could move, a harsh kick in his side sent him rolling over several times, the air pushed out of his lungs.

Baekhyun was wheezing, his lungs desperately struggling to take in oxygen through the pain as he saw Jiyong stepping over him. Tears were bristling in his eyes as he was trying to push himself up, fuelled by nothing but spite and fear, his arms screaming at the pressure of his hurting body.

Jiyong, apparently amused, watched Baekhyun struggle. Baekhyun eventually pushed himself up to his knees through the nauseating pain briefly enough for his eyes to pan over Minseok’s face and its restrained expression. Baekhyun was breathing hard, returning his gaze to Jiyong, who stood a few feet away.

Baekhyun wondered why he was all of a sudden left alone, until he saw Jiyong pulling out an object from his pocket.

A phone.

Baekhyun’s phone.

Baekhyun froze in his efforts, suddenly struggling to breathe. Jiyong, not saying anything, was tapping through Baekhyun’s contacts, eventually held the phone up to his ear. Baekhyun looked in horror as the ringing echoed through the room. When the person on the other end picked up, Baekhyun’s stomach dropped at the sound of the familiar voice through his phone’s speaker.

_“Hello? Who is this?”_

Baekhyun felt like he was going to cry at the sound of Chanyeol’s voice, his desperation rising as Jiyong refused break eye contact with Baekhyun, smiling all the while.

“Hello, Chanyeol,” Jiyong hummed, “I’m calling on the behalf of a friend.”

Baekhyun’s breathing hitched as he panned over to Minseok, who was just standing there uselessly looking away. _“I’m trying to help you”?_ Sure.

 _“Where is he, you motherfucker?”_ Chanyeol’s shaky voice was brimming with anger as he spoke, Jiyong’s smirk pulling his on his lips.

“Oh, he’s right here actually,” Jiyong said with a mockingly manufactured air of surprise, squatting down in front of Baekhyun and grabbing his jaw tightly. “Say hi, Baekhyun, I’m sure your friends have been dying to hear your voice,” Jiyong whispered loudly in Baekhyun’s ear. Baekhyun was on the brink of tears, his jaw trembling in Jiyong’s firm grip. His voice broke as he spoke,” Chan-..,” he whimpered, “Chanyeol, please-“

Jiyong kicked Baekhyun in the chest hard, sending him to the floor again, pain rushing through his body, struggling pathetically to breathe.

“I got bored. Wasn’t that so sweet though? He misses you, Yeollie,” Jiyong chuckled, and Baekhyun could hear Chanyeol’s muffled breathing through the phone,

_“You’ll fucking bleed for this, Jiyong,”_

Chanyeol’s voice was akin to a growl, causing Jiyong’s laughter to echo through the hall, making Baekhyun to wince whilst desperately trying to push himself up on his knees again, feeling the mocking stares of the people standing around.

“Baekhyun told me he misses you dearly and longs for your company,” Jiyong tutted, “he’ll be so happy when you join him,” Jiyong looked at Baekhyun mockingly, that gut-wrenching smirk pulling on his lips.

“Tell Jongin to try harder next time,” he whispered into the phone over Chanyeol’s yelling, promptly shutting the phone off.

Baekhyun closed his eyes as angry, scared tears pressed through. Jiyong stepped over him, tutting at Baekhyun’s desperate efforts at standing up,

“You really should get better friends, Baek,” he tutted, circling Baekhyun slowly, like a lion would circle wounded prey. Baekhyun heard the brief click of a camera going off. Baekhyun, filled to the brink with anger, pushed himself up to stand, his legs screaming in effort, and his stomach turning in nausea. Before he could lash out, Jiyong promptly grabbed his neck, pulling him back to him in a chokehold. Baekhyun’s breath hitched, trapped in his throat, any efforts to claw his way loose crushed by Jiyong, who pressed harder, cutting off Baekhyun’s oxygen. After several days of dehydration and malnutrition, his physical strength was greatly diminished. As Baekhyun was gasping, his lungs screaming for air as he desperately tried to breathe,

“For fucks sake, stop it!”

Jiyong’s face snapped toward Minseok, raising his eyebrows - still holding Baekhyun, who was desperately gasping for air.

“What did you say, Xiumin?” Jiyong murmured, throwing Baekhyun to the ground and stepping over him. Baekhyun choked on his own blood as he desperately tried to fill his lungs again, the horrible sound echoing through the room.

Minseok tried to remain self-assured as Jiyong stared him down.

“I said you should stop,” he repeated, quietly, “it wouldn’t be smart to-“

“Are you questioning me … Xiumin?” Jiyong’s volume increased as he stepped closer to Xiumin. “Again?”

“No, sir-“

“Cause it sure seems like it,” Jiyong growled under his breath, his face inches away.

Minseok glanced away briefly, frustration building, “I would never, sir,” he pressed out.

“You seem to have a real soft spot for our little Baekhyun here, Xiumin” Jiyong’s voice was growing louder, and Minseok refused to break eye contact with Jiyong.

“He’s a valuable asset,” Minseok mumbled.

Jiyong hummed under his breath, turning his back to Minseok and stepping back to Baekhyun, who was trembling on the floor, blood mixing with tears on his face from his wound opening up again.

Everything was spinning as Jiyong looked down at him, pulling out a gun, and loading the chamber with a click. Baekhyun whimpered, croaking out a weak _“please,”_ as Jiyong massaged the trigger with his finger.

“Come,” Jiyong hummed, not breaking eye contact with Baekhyun.

Minseok’s heart dropped in his chest, as he slowly made his way to Jiyong’s side feeling the eyes of the other administration on him. Especially Jongdae. Jiyong pressed the loaded gun into Minseok’s hand, who looked up at Jiyong in disbelief,

“Are y-“

“It seems like our “asset” has become disruptive to your performance of your duties,” Jiyong murmured, leaning against his chair.

Minseok was breathing hard, the gun weighing his hand down as he looked at it, then down at Baekhyun, who was trembling, the metallic taste settling in his mouth as he looked up at Minseok, pathetic and desperate.

Was this how it all was going to end?

Like this?

Every breath felt like a struggle.

 

Minseok was breathing deeply, biting his lip as he slowly raised the gun to Baekhyun’s face. Jiyong’s piercing eyes burned into him as he tried to stifle his trembling fingers. He looked into Baekhyun’s eyes, holding his finger to the trigger.

He glanced over and met Jiyong’s eyes, took a deep breath,

and pulled the trigger.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: blood, violence, angst, etc  
> This chapter contains a scene of sexual assault, so please read with caution.  
> I hope you like it <3

_Chapter 3_

 

White, blinding pain clouded his eyes as his body pulsed and burned with intense pain. Baekhyun felt like his arm was going to fall off, feeling the warm blood pulse through his skin. His voice was hoarse as a scream ripped from his throat, desperately struggling trying to breathe.

Minseok shakily threw the empty gun on the floor next to Baekhyun with a clatter, throwing one look at Jiyong before walking out, the room murmuring in shock at his disobedience.

Jiyong’s face did not betray his feelings as he looked at Baekhyun’s wretched body, hearing his harrowed breathing and cries, ignoring the other administration members as he pushed himself to stand.

“Get him back to his cell,” he murmured as he turned to leave.

“Boss, he’ll bleed ou-“

“I said get him to his cell,” he growled, storming out of the room.

Baekhyun felt reality slip away from him, the ringing sound of the gun still resonating in his head as he was grasping for his arm, trying to stop the bleeding. He felt the warm, thick blood pulse through his fingers as he tried to keep his breathing steady.

Minseok and Jiyong were nowhere to be seen.

When Baekhyun felt hands on him he flinched, but lacked composure to fight back as he was picked up, surprisingly gently, but with much struggle.

A few, blurry minutes later, Baekhyun felt the cold, dirty floor of his cell against his back again, his head still spinning from blood loss. He tried to discern the face of the man above him, who was unbuckling his belt. The man wrapped the belt hard above Baekhyun’s gunshot wound with a snap, and Baekhyun’s breath hitched in pain.

Baekhyun eventually recognised the scrunched, frustrated face of Jongdae, a well-known member of the Myung-pa administration. He didn’t have time to ponder the realisation for long, as Jongdae left for a few moments, returning with what looked like scissors, a pair of pliers and a bottle of alcohol.

He kneeled down in front of Baekhyun and rolled up his sleeves. Before wiping the pliers with alcohol, he ripped up a piece of cloth and shoved it between Baekhyun’s teeth, and proceeding to cut off the sleeve on Baekhyun’s jacket. He proceeded to pin down Baekhyun’s shoulder, and placing his knee on Baekhyun’s hip.

“Brace yourself,” he murmured, before inserting the pliers into the gunshot wound. Baekhyun bit down hard trying to silence his scream as the burning of the alcohol and the prodding of the cold pliers caused pain to shoot through his whole body. “Fucking Xiumin,” Jongdae growled as he dug around with the pliers for the bullet that was still in there. He pressed down Baekhyun’s shoulder hard, growling “fucking lie still,” as Baekhyun failed to do so, tears mixing with blood on his cheeks as he bit through the cloth.

After an agonising minute of digging around, Jongdae finally grasped the bullet with the pliers, throwing both on the ground behind him, taking a moment to breathe, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Baekhyun’s head was spinning from the pain and the blood loss, breathing hard around the cloth, now damp with blood and saliva, as Jongdae carefully bound the wound with many layers of clean cloth.

Jongdae carefully pried the cloth from Baekhyun’s mouth, still squatting in front of him, leaving Baekhyun’s whimpered breathing to echo through the cells.

“Xiumin what the fuck have you done?” Jongdae mumbled under his breath as his eyes panned across Baekhyun’s bloodied and bruised face. He sighed, proceeding to carefully wipe the blood from Baekhyun’s face.

“You’re only alive because of him, you know?” He said, almost speaking to himself, “might as well keep you that way,” Jongdae’s voice sounded as restrained as it could, resonating with frustration, maybe even a little bit of fear. Fear of retaliation, maybe.

Baekhyun tried to focus his gaze on Jongdae’s face, which turned out to be a challenge, partly because of the dizziness and pain, partly because just moving his face made him feel like throwing up.

Eventually he asked the question that had been sitting in the back of his mind for quite some time now, “if Minseok is so, important, how come-,” he took a pause to breathe, “-how come, no one knows about him?” he breathed out weakly.

“The point of being the eyes of any organisation is that no one sees you,” Jongdae sighed quietly and dismissively. Baekhyun didn’t know how to respond to that unsatisfying and confusing revelation, mostly too exhausted to think at all.

Jongdae didn’t meet his gaze. He almost looked disgusted.

“What have you done to ear his protection?” He muttered under his breath.

Baekhyun didn’t answer, partly because he didn’t know, partly because his mouth was sore.

Baekhyun felt smaller than ever when Jongdae looked down at him, not wanting to say anything.

“What do you mean?” he eventually said, his voice much thinner than he wanted it to be. Jongdae laughed bitterly, turning away.

“Don’t pretend to be an idiot,” he muttered angrily, standing up, leaving Baekhyun alone on the floor.

Baekhyun watched with an unsettling feeling pooling in his stomach as Jongdae approached the door. “I hope you’ll earn it,” Jongdae looked over his shoulder, his face betraying him as his frustration and hopelessness shone through his dark eyes.

He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something more, but apparently decided not to, closing the door behind him, leaving Baekhyun with many more questions than answers.

Shortly thereafter, Baekhyun passed out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

His mind found him again a couple of hours later, his aching body demanding attention. He felt the light slowly seep into his eyes, his head pulsing relentlessly. The intense, sustained pain from his arm also made itself known. Baekhyun tried to steady his breathing.

Soon, something lying on the floor beside him caught his attention.

When he saw the water-bottle and the small, stale sandwich beside him he quickly tried to push himself to a sitting position with his healthy arm, wincing in pain and dizziness all the while. He quickly grabbed the water bottle, gulping down its contents in one go, throwing it away and reaching for the food.

Baekhyun hadn’t eaten anything for god knows how long, his empty stomach and exhaustion were stark reminders of this. He took small bites, torn between the urge to eat and the urge to throw up because of the pain. The sandwich quickly disappeared down his throat.

Baekhyun sighed in relief, leaning against the wall.

He didn’t know who put it there, but no matter who he was thankful.

The feelings eventually bubbled to the surface.

All the despair, hopelessness and pain inside of him screamed, refusing to be ignored.

Baekhyun closed his eyes, trying to shut out the tears that slipped through anyway.

 

Eventually he passed out again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Baekhyun woke up, he was sitting.

In a chair.

His eyes fluttered, adjusting to the bright surroundings. Was he dreaming?  His arm stung, pain pulsing through his body. He winced at the uncomfortable position.

His jaw clenched and his heartbeat quickend as his eyes fell on Jiyong’s jaded face at the other end of the sturdy wooden desk in front of him.

No one else was in the room. For the first time in a long time, he actually wished for Minseok to be there.

Baekhyun tried to control his breathing as he gripped the armrest on his chair with his healthy hand.

It was also then he realised he wasn’t restrained. No handcuffs, no ropes, no anything.

And there was a knife really close by, lying under a half-empty bottle of rum.

Jiyong, well aware of where Baekhyun’s eyes were fixed snapped his fingers, the sharp sound making Baekhyun wince and forcing eye contact.

Jiyong remained silent, just comfortably rested his chin on hands - resting comfortably in the - to Baekhyun - suffocating silence.

Eventually, a sigh passed through Jiyong’s parted lips.

“You may have failed miserably in your mission to kill me, but you’ve sure fucked up a lot of my organisation,” he said quietly, his eyes resting on Baekhyun, dark and shallow. It felt like all of the world’s bad intentions could be found in those dark, jaded eyes.

“In that case, you must be running your organisation pretty badly.”

Jiyong laughed, standing up. “That’s the spirit, Baekhyun.” Jiyong paced around the small office, the other half of the rum bottle evidently circulating in his system. Baekhyun flinched as Jiyong’s slender fingers brushed over his bruised jaw. Jiyong leaned down to rest his elbows on Baekhyun’s shoulders from behind. Baekhyun stifled a jump and winced in pain as Jiyong’s weight pressed down on his shoulders.

In the absence of an answer, Jiyong leaned forward, his alcohol-infused breath brushing Baekhyun’s ear, causing him to look away.

“Do you know why Xiumin didn’t kill you?” He hummed in Baekhyun’s ear.

Baekhyun’s body as was tense as he stifled his breathing. He knew what Jiyong was trying to do, but the way the words passed through his lips still made his blood curl.

“It’s because he wants to _fuck_ you, Baekhyun,” Jiyong whispered, an air of unhinged insanity to his voice as his mouth pressed close to Baekhyun’s ear. Baekhyun tried to stop his face from going red, his blood boiling in anger and embarrassment. He was grinding his teeth, struggling to remain put, to stifle Baekhyun’s effort to provoke him.

“Xiumin’s watching, Baekkie. Doesn’t that make you happy?” Jiyong forcefully directed Baekhyun’s chin up to a corner of the ceiling, and mockingly glanced up at a security camera in the corner. Baekhyun was struggling to remain still, starting to grow afraid at the suggestiveness in Jiyong’s language. He tried to still his breathing, which was growing quick, every inch of his body screaming to get away. This didn’t make any sense. What was going on?

His stomach dropped at the thoughts spiralling in his head - thoughts of what Jiyong would be willing to do just to mock Minseok.

His thought spiral was interrupted as he felt Jiyong’s warm lips brush his neck, his breathing caught in his throat as he struggled to remain calm. The horrible sensation was making the hairs on his arms rise. His attempts to supress his panicked breathing were now in vain, cold fear rushing through his body over and over again at every heartbeat. He shuddered in disgust as Jiyong’s tongue brushed the bruised skin on his neck.

Then, without warning, Jiyong pulled Baekhyun up from his seat, slamming him back first onto his desk. Baekhyun’s breath hitched in panic, desperately trying to get away as Jiyong held him down, his body pressing down on Baekhyun preventing any movement on Baekhyun’s part.

Baekhyun desperately tried to supress the tears collecting in his eyes. As Baekhyun refused to open his mouth to Jiyong’s, Jiyong promptly pressed his thumb into his gunshot-wound, causing Baekhyun to gasp in pain, giving Jiyong an opportunity to enter his mouth. The taste of bitterness, alcohol and metal was slowly seeping into Baekhyun’s mouth. At this point, Jiyong glanced up at the security camera, his eyes mocking and victorious. Baekhyun was crying because of the pain pulsing from his arm and the desperate desire to get away.

Baekhyun desperately fumbled, running his hands across the table until his hand grasped the handle of the knife he’d seen earlier. But Jiyong was one step ahead of him, grabbing Baekhyun’s wrist hard, chuckling into Baekhyun’s mouth. Baekhyun’s anger was pushed tumbling over the edge as he bit hard into Jiyong’s lip, tasting Jiyong’s blood in his mouth.

Jiyong yelled, but didn’t let go of Baekhyun, instead pushing him down harder, bringing the knife closer to Baekhyun’s face, his alcohol-heavy breathing intensified.

“Now, you’re really testing me, Baekkie,” Jiyong growled, licking the blood from his bottom lip. “What would Xiumin say, hmm?”

Just then, the distant sound of gunshots and breaking glass caused Jiyong’s gaze to snap towards the door.

Jiyong chuckled, “Perhaps we’ll soon find out.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Baekhyun was pressed in a tight hold against Jiyong’s chest, a knife pressed against his exposed throat - his heartbeat quickening any time gunshots or screaming was heard. He didn’t want to imagine what was going on out there, and the sound of a body breaking against the floor made his blood curl, his imagination running wild as he tried to stop himself from imagining who it could be this time.

Tears prickled in his eyes at the cold, sharp metal pressed tightly to his throat.

Moments later, Baekhyun’s breathing hitched in panic as the door in front of him broke down, splinters flying everywhere. Gunshots were still heard outside.

Baekhyun failed to stifle his heavy, panicked breathing, grasping the chair he was pressed against as his eyes fell on Chanyeol’s furious, sweat-covered face. The barrel of Chanyeol’s gun was aimed above him, at Jiyong.

“You finally showed up,” Jiyong smiled, slurring slightly as he spoke, “isn’t that great, Baekhyun?” Baekhyun’s breath hitched in pain and fear as the blade was pressed more tightly to Baekhyun’s throat, breaking the skin, and causing a single stream of blood to break through. Chanyeol’s look of horror and rage as he watched Baekhyun’s bloodied and beaten body caused Jiyong to chuckle quietly.

“Let him go, Jiyong,” Chanyeol growled through gritted teeth, re-loading his chamber, causing Jiyong to laugh out loud, a laugh bubbling with alcohol and mockery.

“You must be retarded if you think you just took out all my men,” Jiyong looked at Chanyeol, who narrowed his eyes, “you’ll be overrun in minutes. I don’t see why I should move.” To reaffirm his point, the blade was pressed harder at Baekhyun’s throat, Baekhyun stifling a jump as he tried keep breathing as more blood coated his throat.

At this point, Jiyong acted like had nothing to lose anymore, and Baekhyun was positive he was going to die.

In panic and anger, Baekhyun grabbed onto Jiyong’s arm with both his hands, straining against the excruciating pain as he slammed the back of his head against Jiyong’s face to try and push the knife away with all his remaining strength, knowing that his diminished strength couldn’t compete with Jiyong’s. His attempt was deemed in vain, as Jiyong growled in anger, pushing the knife closer again, until -

 

_Boom_

 

 

The deafening ring of a gun made Baekhyun’s head spin, as he slipped to the floor when Jiyong’s arms let go of their firm grasp, bringing his hands to his throat.

Jiyong’s head was splattered in in an arc along the wall.

Chanyeol’s eyes widened in shock, his breathing hitched as he turned around, seeing the man he recognised as Jongdae standing behind him, his gun slipping from his fingers and clattering against the floor, staring at the slumped body of Kwon Jiyong in utter disbelief. His dark, blank eyes met Baekhyun’s, and for a moment he stood frozen, unable to move as he tried to take in the reality of his actions - for just a few seconds too long.

Chanyeol lunged into the room as the sound of a gun going off behind him met his ears.

Baekhyun stared in horror as Jongdae’s body slumped, blood splattering from his head as he crashed to the floor. Baekhyun’s breath hitched as he watched Jongdae’s body sprawled out in front of him, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, his blood seeping into the foundations of the floor.

As Chanyeol took down the person who shot Jongdae, Baekhyun couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jongdae, until he was forcibly pulled up by Chanyeo, who quickly tried to drag him along, covering the both of them as Baekhyun stumbled and fell, his body pulsing with pain and disorientation. Someone coming from behind picked him up in his arms, pushing on covered by Chanyeol, as well as Taeil and Suho, both Jongin’s. Baekhyun was slowly losing consciousness, and blood.

As they made it out of the building, Baekhyun took in the vague contours of Minseok’s face as his mind slipped from consciousness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chanyeol was fighting the creeping urge to fall asleep. He rubbed his face distraughtly, resting his chin on his hands. It had been three hours since Baekhyun was taken into the emergency operation room, and no word since then.

Chanyeol sighed, shutting his eyes briefly. Memories of Jongdae flashed in front him, and he tried to push them away.

Jongdae’s death asked more questions than it answered, and Chanyeol didn’t have the energy or capacity to try to answer any of them.

He got up from his seat as Jongin entered his peripheral view, to Chanyeol’s surprise unmasked, until he remembered Jongin talking about the benefits of paying hospital administrators. One of the many reminders he had gotten today about what it looked like to have a whole city under ones fingertips. Jongin nodded to Chanyeol, the bags under his eyes suggesting he was as just as tired as Chanyeol.

“Nothing?”

Chanyeol shook his head.

Jongin sighed. “Soo threatened to come here and wait himself if I didn’t show up,” Jongin rubbed his neck, causing silvery, bleached strands of hair falling over his forehead, seemingly having escaped the significant amount of hair-gel pushed back in Jongin’s hair.

Chanyeol chuckled, still amazed at the way Kyungsoo had wrapped his finger around one of the most powerful gang-lords in South Korea. Kyungsoo wasn’t allowed to leave his bed - still recovering from his gunshot wound, but Chanyeol doubted Baekhyun would even be here if it wasn’t for Kyungsoo and his influence on Jongin.

His sleep-induced pondering was interrupted by Xiumin, who slowly approached them. Chanyeol narrowed his eyes, his repressed anger and irritation bubbling to the surface. He knew Jongin had already interrogated him for hours, and that technically, he wasn’t responsible for any of this, but Chanyeol still clenched his jaw. In his eyes, Xiumin was still the reason for Baekhyun being captured in the first place.

Xiumin, noticing Chanyeol’s glare, didn’t make eye contact, instead just slid down the hospital wall, running his hands through his tousled, black hair distraughtly.

“Why is he here?” Chnayeol growled through gritted teeth, glaring at Jongin, who just sighed, glancing at Xiumin’s slumped figure.

“You know very well you wouldn’t have your Baekhyun back without him,” Jongin sighed quietly, tapping away at his phone.

“He _tortured_ him,” Chanyeol pushed out through gritted teeth, tightening the grip on his chair.

Jongin didn’t answer him.

Xiumin seemed unphased, just staring blankly into the wall. A small part of Chanyeol felt sorry for him; apparently he and Jongdae had been pretty close.

Chanyeol sighed, glancing away. Jongin left after a while to check on Taeil, who was in another part of the emergency ward. He had also been shot.

This left Chanyeol and Xiumin alone with each other. The deafening silence in the otherwise empty corridor was all-encompassing, leaving much unsaid.

Eventually, Chanyeol asked, without reservation, “Why did you shoot him?”, not needing to specify further.

Xiumin sighed, turning away.

“It was the only way to stop Jiyong from killing him,” he mumbled. “It was the least bad decision. But you knew that already.”

Chanyeol snorted. “You seem to get yourself into a lot of bad situations,” Chanyeol said, his voice carrying an obvious mocking undertone.

Xiumin sighed - a heavy sigh, pushing himself up to sit in one of the chairs, “Yeah,” he replied curtly, “I sacrificed my best friend’s life for a man I hardly know, just to be mocked for it,” he murmured, rubbing his face.

The words stung, and Chanyeol remained silent for a while, eventually deciding not to respond.

The flow of time seemed distant and surreal in the empty hospital corridor, disappearing in the dwindling corridors like smoke from a dead fire.

When a nurse came out of the emergency operation room a few minutes later, both Chanyeol and Xiumin got up, filled with anxious anticipation.

“So,” the nurse began, looking at Chanyeol, “he is stable, and he’s gotten a blood transplant, but we’re going to put him on IV and watch him for a few days,” Xiumin let out a silent sigh of relief.

Sensing Chanyeol’s mind brimming with questions, she continued, “no one will be allowed to visit for a few hours, just so we can monitor his condition more closely,” she said, looking pertinently at Chanyeol and Xiumin.

“I suggest you go home and get some sleep in the meantime,” she concluded, before leaving, her echoing steps slowly disappearing in the empty hallway.

Chanyeol sighed, rubbing his neck, closing his eyes. He didn’t want to leave, but he knew there was little point in staying.

He just felt useless.

His eyes inevitably panned over to Xiumin, a small part of him feeling some pity at his reddened eyes and empty expression as he leaned back to the wall.

He reluctantly decided to go home. As he passed Xiumin on the way out, he quietly asked, “Aren’t you going?”

Xiumin glanced at him briefly, “I don’t have anywhere to go. Might as well stay,” he mumbled as he sat down, looking at his hands.

Chanyeol paused briefly. While he didn’t like the idea of Xiumin coming to their apartment, the idea of leaving Baekhyun alone with him seemed equally shit. Eventually he sighed, running his hands on his neck.

“You can stay at our apartment for the night,” he murmured, disgusted at the taste of the words in his mouth. Xiumin looked at him briefly, seemingly equally repulsed, but knowing that he would probably be kicked out if he stayed where he was for too long. He sighed into his hands.

“Why?” He eventually mumbled, looking back at Chanyeol.

“Are you gonna accept or no?” Chanyeol replied, turning to leave, raising his eyebrows in question at Xiumin.

Xiumin eventually sighed, reluctantly pushing himself up and giving Chanyeol a curt nod.

He desperately needed some sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

The first thing Baekhyun heard when he woke up was the distant beeping sound. The pulsing of pain was more distant than before, as if it was somehow muffled by the soft mattress beneath him.

He was comfortable, despite the aching of his body, his arm in particular.

It felt like his mind was shut off by a curtain, and eventually he came to the conclusion that he was on morphine.

His eyes fluttered open slowly, temporarily blinded by the whiteness of the hospital room walls. His breathing was slow and steady, picking up slightly at the sight of the needles in his arms, connecting him to a morphine pump and an iv-bag.

One of the first things he saw as his eyes panned around him was the slouched body of Chanyeol, who had fallen asleep in an armchair by the hospital bed. His breathing hitched slightly at the sight of his best friend, biting his swollen lip. The sight of Chanyeol’s messy hair and deceitfully innocent face was a sight he had missed.

He didn’t want to wake Chanyeol up, but the stirring and pained grunts that left him as he tried to move caused Chanyeol to stir, eventually waking him up. His eyes flew open as he realised Baekhyun was awake, pushing himself up.

“Baek,” Chanyeol’s voice was breathy, filled with undertones Baekhyun couldn’t quite place. As Chanyeol bent over him, hugging him gently as not to cause any pain, Baekhyun noticed the dark bags under his eyes, making him wonder if Chanyeol had slept at all.

Chanyeol bit his lip as he saw Baekhyun wincing slightly in pain, leaning back, and scooting his chair closer to the bedside.

Baekhyun snorted slightly at Chanyeol’s worried expression, just happy at the sight of him.

“How long-“ as he tried to speak his voice was breathier than intended, but Chanyeol filled in regardless,

“Two days,” he replied, placing his hand on Baekhyun’s colder one.

Baekhyun swallowed, shutting his eyes as he tried to push away the memories of past events flooding his brain.

“What was the cost?” he eventually mumbled, not looking at Chanyeol.

“For us? One of Jongin’s got shot, but no one died,” Chanyeol answered, his eyes scanning attentively over Baekhyun’s bruised face, “And, well, you saw what happened to Jongdae,” Baekhyun winced slightly at the mention of Jongdae, “some other administration members too,” Chanyeol  concluded.

“Jongin is paying us too,” Chanyeol added, excitedly, causing Baekhyun to look away.

“I didn’t do shit, Chanyeol,” he mumbled, ashamed, quickly interrupted by Chanyeol’s upset face.

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ say that. You’re still the reason he’s dead,” Chanyeol gripped Baekhyun’s hand a bit too hard.

Baekhyun didn’t have the energy to refute the point. Instead, he tried to distract himself.

“How is Kyungsoo?”

Chanyeol chuckled, “He’s good. He forced Jongin to come here because he wasn’t allowed to come. He’s probably on his way,” Chanyeol smiled, “Without him, Jongin probably wouldn’t have sent the rescue team.” Chanyeol’s hand brushed gently up his wrist as he spoke.

Baekhyun nodded, suspecting as much, still happy that Kyungsoo was well, and seemingly as annoying and nagging as ever. He smiled.

Eventually, to break the stifling silence that followed, Chanyeol asked, “What did Xiumin do to you, Baekhyun?” Baekhyun glanced at Chanyeol, who looked dead serious.

He didn’t know what to say. Technically, Xiumin had helped him survive. But he had also helped Jiyong torture him.

And shot him.

All Baekhyun’s conflicting feelings about Xiumin bubbled to the surface, and he let out a shaky sigh. Memories of his warm feelings towards Xiumin - before it all happened, also brushed up, demanding to be felt. He shuddered as he remembered what Jiyong said. What if it was act-

“Baek?” Chanyeol interrupted his spiralling thoughs, carefully squeezing his hand.

Just as Baekhyun was about to say something, a curt knock on the door turned both of their heads to the door. As the nurse entered, Chanyeol stood up, not letting go of Baekhyun’s hand.

“You’re finally awake, Mr. Byun,” she said with a suffocatingly big smile, “how are you feeling?”

Baekhyun mumbled a something unintelligible, and after checking his values and replacing his IV-bag, she turned to Baekhyun, “There’s a gentleman outside asking to see you,” she said, “a Mr. Minseok?”

Baekhyun swallowed, looking at away.

Chanyeol bent down, looking Bakehyun gravely in the eyes.

“Just say the word and I’ll personally push him off the hospital roof,” Chanyeol said, ignoring the nurse, looking dead serious. Baekhyun snorted at the antics of his friend, not making eye contact.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled, smiling shallowly at the nurse, who turned and went to open the door.

“Do you want me to stay?” Chanyeol asked quietly, squeezing his hand.

“Chanyeol, I said it’s fine,” Baekhyun replied, meeting Chanyeol’s eyes.

“Let me know if he tries something,” Chanyeol mumbled, before letting go of Baekhyun’s hand, getting up to leave.

Baekhyun closed his eyes as he heard the door shut behind Chanyeol, the anticipation-filled silence engulfing the room, only interrupted by the occasional beeping of the morphine pump.

As he opened his eyes again, they fell on Minseok’s face as he made his way to the side of the hospital bed. The man looked weary, his eyes bloodshot and tired, his black hair a mess.

Minseok’s eyes panned over Baekhyun’s bruised face, and his bound up arm. He bit his lip, his repressed feelings of guilt surfacing.

He slowly sat down where Chanyeol had just sat, settling in the crushing silence, as Baekhyun’s eyes met his own. Baekhyun’s eyes were heavy because of the morphine. At least Baekhyun’s eyes weren’t as hateful as Chanyeol’s had been.

“You look tired,” Baekhyun mumbled, the memory of what Jongdae had said about Minseok surfacing unnecessarily, remembering that they were close.

Although seemingly on uneven footing.

“Don’t worry about me, Baekhyun,” Minseok’s voice was hoarse, his dark eyes panning back to Baekhyun’s face after resting on his hands, “How are you feeling?” he asked as he leaned forward, his voice a bit softer.

“A bit tired,” Baekhyun replied, causing Minseok to chuckle softly, letting on the first smile in days. It had been a long couple of days, and Minseok was exhausted.

In the absence of an answer, Baekhyun continued, “You saw it, didn’t you?”

Minseok bit his lip, trying to control his breathing as his eyes flashed from Baekhyun’s to his own hands, as the memory of watching those security cameras bubbled to the surface. Not mustering the courage to provide a good answer, he pressed out a quiet “I did,” his eyes carefully returning to Baekhyun’s, who had stopped looking at him. “I…” Minseok trailed off.

“I’m sorry,” Minseok looked into Baekhyun’s eyes, “He was trying to set me off,” Minseok continued, “He wanted to punish me,”

“For what?” Baekhyun interrupted.

“Not killing you.”

Baekhyun swallowed, not sure what to say, looking at the slouched body of Minseok in front of him, who was more and more looking like he was on the verge of tears.

Eventually, he asked quietly, “And why didn’t you?” not sure what kind of response he was hoping for.

Minseok looked up at Baekhyun, trying to still his own breath.

“Because… I couldn’t, Baek,” he murmured, rubbing his neck. “I didn’t want to.” He reiterated, his voice slightly more controlled.

Bakehyun winced at a sudden sting in his arm, his panic stilling as he realised it was the morphine pump. Minseok stifled a jumped at the sight, on edge due to his lack of sleep.

Baekhyun stilled his breathing, mustering the strength to speak again, “You know what Jongdae told me after you shot me?”

Minseok glanced away, wincing at the mention of the sound of his best friend and at the reminder of what he had done to Baekhyun.

“He said, he didn’t understand why I had earned your protection,” Bakehyun quietly continued, his brows furrowing slightly “and that he hoped I would earn it.” Baekhyun watched, weird feelings spurring inside of him as he saw tears collect in Minseok’s eyes.

Minseok wanted to disregard his question, but he figured Baekhyun deserved to know, “We... we used to have… what you could call a relationship,” his eyes flickered over Baekhyun for a reaction, before continuing, “things got complicated, but we never really… fixed it,” he murmured into his hands.

“My best friend is dead because of me,” he buried his face in his hands, letting out a shuddered sigh,

Baekhyun helplessly watched Minseok lose control of his emotions, his chest feeling a little tight watching his trembling figure as he realised that Minseok might be crying.

Minseok looked up, his eyes reddened as he felt Baekhyun’s fingers brush up on him.

Baekhyun shuddered as he felt Minseok fingers on his own, Minseok’s body heat seeping into his own, inducing a feeling - a sense of completion that he didn’t know he had wanted. Maybe it was the morphine.

 They sat like that for a while, a warm, comfortable feeling pooling in Baekhyun’s stomach. A part of Baekhyun screamed “what are you doing?”, but Baekhyun didn’t have the energy to answer it. Minseok bit his lips as he watched Baekhyun’s fluttering eyelids, heavy with morphine, and watched his chest slowly rise and fall.

As Minseok was about to say something a loud bang was heard from outside the door, as well as Chanyeol’s voice, making him jump, almost ripping out the needle stuck to his arm, and Minseok to let go off his hand as Kyungsoo stormed into the room, fuming,

“What is he doing here??” Kyungsoo’s dark voice sent shivers down Baekhyun’s spine, and Minseok got up, flinching at the sight of Kyungsoo’s fiery eyes, bursting with rage as he approached,

“What gives you the fucking right,” Kyungsoo growled between gritted teeth as he closed in on Minseok, who looked smaller than ever as he was pushed threateningly against the wall, “You fucking shot and tortured-“ he growled, Minseok looking away, stilling his breathing.

“Soo, stop,” Baekhyun said as loudly as he could, feeling his throat rip in effort. “It’s fine,” He glared tiredly at Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo breathed hard, his eyes narrow and his body tense as he held onto Minseok’s shirt, who glanced back at Kyungsoo, his eyes reddened and tired and his body tense in suspension.

After a few moments, Kyungsoo let go, looking at the other man with a disgusted look on his face, wiping the spit from his lips. He stepped aside, letting Minseok step past him, not looking away from him. Minseok shot Baekhyun a small, almost sad look, before exiting the room shutting the door behind him.

Kyungsoo looked at Baekhyun, biting his lips. He buried his face in Baekhyun’s neck, almost getting tangled up in the mess of tubes and needles as he hugged Baekhyun a bit too hard, who was just shocked by the physical affection that Kyungsoo showed. He couldn’t remember the last time Kyungsoo hugged him.

Baekhyun smiled weakly, his eyes drooping with exhaustion, as Kyungsoo pulled away, his face pale and upset.

“Baekhyun…” Kyungsoo asked, his tone shaky with anger, “why was he in here?”

Baekhyun sighed, shutting his eyes. He felt drained, but based on Kyungsoo’s gentle hand squeeze he knew that.

“I wouldn’t be here without him, Soo” Baekhyun muttered weakly, memories of Minseok from Myung-pa flooring his head.

“And you probably wouldn’t need to be here if it wasn’t for him,” Kyungsoo interrupted.

Tears of frustration flooded Baekhyun’s eyes, frustrated at how fucking complicated things had become.

“What am I supposed to do then?” Baekhyun’s voice cracked, immediately feeling guilty as he saw Kyungsoo’s worried expression.

Kyungsoo rested his face on Baekhyun’s and his own hands for a moment, breathing shakily. Baekhyun realised he was probably in pain, considering how he was supposed to be in bed and all.

“It just…” Kyungsoo sighed, meeting Baekhyun’s eyes briefly, before stopping himself, realising it wasn’t going to help. “If you want him here, that’s fine,” he eventually mumbled.

“I don’t know what I want, Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun’s voice was weak and shattered.

Kyungsoo hugged his hand reluctantly, his eyes filled with worry as he saw the state Baekhyun was in. Particularly the giant wound on his face. Baekhyun looked weaker than he’d ever seen him before.

“It’s gonna work out,” Kyungsoo gave Baekhyun a weak smile, but one filled with good intentions, almost speaking to himself.

Eventually, Baekhyun turned to Kyungsoo, smiling weakly as he realised how good it felt to finally see him again.

“How is your gang-lord boyfriend?” he chuckled, and smiled as he saw Kyungsoo’s ears turn red, turning away in embarrassment.

“He’s not,” he mumbled through gritted teeth, causing Baekhyun to chuckle lightly, well in the knowledge that Kyungsoo for once wasn’t going to hit him for teasing him.

“It sure sounds like it,” Baekhyun raising his eyebrows at Kyungsoo’s blushing face.

“Well despite what Chanyeol told you, he’s still a lying idiot,” Kyungsoo muttered.

Baekhyun chuckled quietly, carefully squeezing Kyungsoo’s hand back, thoughts of Minseok still simmering ceaselessly in the background.

He soon fell asleep as the morphine took its toll, Kyungsoo still holding his hand.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update the chapters I have as I go along :)  
> Warning: Obviously there's more gore and violence in this chapter

_Chapter 4_

 

_A few hours earlier_

 

 

 

“You do understand that you don’t have much leverage here, right?” Jongin intertwined his fingers as he held Xiumin in firm eye contact.

Jongin’s office was dark and mostly quiet, aside from the muffled sound of alcohol-infused laughter and shouting seeping through the ceiling of the floor above. It was past midnight, so the building was relatively empty, as most lower-level people were out working.

The air in Jongin’s office was stifling, at least to Xiumin, especially under the weight of Suho’s eyes, which were pinning him down from the other side of the room as he leaned against a table in the darkest part of the room.

Xiumin tilted his head slightly as he blinked. “I wouldn’t be here unless you thought I was valuable,” he replied, rather matter-of-factly.

Jongin chuckled quietly, looking up at Xiumin with a look in his eyes that only served to assert his power. “Everyone in this building - and in this room - would love to see your head on a spike, Mr. Minseok” Jongin raised his eyebrows at Xiumin, pushing himself up from his chair,

“Besides that, I also don’t see why should trust someone who turned on his leader so easily,” Jongin continued as he pushed himself up from his chair.

Xiumin snorted, “I don’t really see why you’re complaining,” he replied. Jongin leaned back against the desk in front of Xiumin, who instinctively pressed himself against the back of his chair, being forced to look up to meet Jongin’s eyes.

“Loyalty doesn’t seem to be your strong suit,” Jongin tilted his head slightly as to prove his point. Jongin’s methods for asserting power were pretty obvious, Xiumin thought to himself, but to his frustration, they still worked.

“If you expect blind loyalty, you might as well bring out the spike,” Xiumin replied.

Jongin’s chuckle echoed through the room, loud and genuine as he walked back, sliding into his chair, “Pertinent as always, our Xiumin,” Jongin mused, as he flipped open his laptop.

“I’m still loyal,” Xiumin continued, a bit more uncertainty in his voice, “Jiyong’s grip on the buissness was slipping, it couldn’t be helped,” his half-lie echoing in the room, as his eyes flickered from Suho, who wasn’t speaking, and back to Jongin.

“So this wasn’t the reason for your betrayal?” Jongin turned the laptop around to face Xiumin, who took a sharp breath as sharp images of Baekhyun’s bloodied face and broken body hit his retinas. The bright glow of the laptop forced his eyes to linger on the images. Xiumin bit his lip as he breathed, as supressed feelings of anger and guilt bubbled to the surface. In one of the images, he could see his own hands holding Baekhyun down, recognising himself by the tattoo on the wrist. He felt like he was going to throw up, and turned away.

Jongin sighed, shutting the laptop, and rested his elbows on the desk.

“No matter why you helped rescue our hitman, I think - in the sake of fairness, you should be offered an opportunity to work for me.” Jongin’s lip twitched as he looked at Xiumin with a look that shone with assertion.

Xiumin met Jongin’s stare, rubbing his thumb in small circles on the armrest of the chair. “In exchange for…what?” He raised his eyebrows slightly.

“No second chances. Any slip-up, no matter how minor, and I’ll give my people what they want. You will also help us track down the remaining administration members,” Jongin let out a small sigh before adding, “of course, that means you’ll have to listen Kyungsoo whenever you’re working together,” Jongin looked at Xiumin, waiting for a reaction.

Xiumin sighed quietly, “He’ll probably kill me. For what I did to Baekhyun,” he looked away, the images of Baekhyun plastered in his mind.

Jongin chuckled, pushing himself up to stand, “I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” he smiled.

Xiumin wasn’t quite as sure.

 

 

 

 

 

_about a month later_

 

 

 

Baekhyun let out a shaky breath as he leaned over the bathroom sink in their new apartment, the warm steam from the running water calming his senses. He distractedly watched the small streaks of blood mix with the hot water as it dripped down from his hands.

He closed his eyes briefly, hearing something from the room close by.

Baekhyun had just completed his first job since Myung-pa, a decision he had defended fiercely by saying – over and over again, that _‘he couldn’t just sit here forever, not making any money’._   Things had gone well, as expected – it wasn’t a difficult job. But he was still mentally unprepared, and ended up beating one of his target’s body-guards to near death after the job was done.

Entirely unnecessarily.

Baekhyun had overreacted, seemingly proving the point of Chanyeol’s nagging voice in the back of his head.

On top of that his pay would probably be reduced because of the mess he caused.

“Baekhyun?”

He flinched slightly as Minseok’s fingers brushed up on his back.

The fact that Chanyeol and Kyungsoo agreed to let Minseok be alone with Baekhyun in their apartment was surprising in its own, not because they were both out working, but because of what massive control freaks they both were when it came to Minseok. Especially Chanyeol.

For good reasons.

Minseok’s warm hand running up his back brought a small smile to his lips.

“What happened?” Baekhyun’s body tensed up slightly. “Things got a bit messy,” he mumbled, letting out a small shudder as Minseok’s hand ran up and down his back.

“Are you hurt?” Minseok’s voice was soft, but equally serious.

Baekhyun didn’t answer, just turned away slightly, revelling in the warm, comfortable steam of the running water.

Minseok placed a finger under Baekhyun’s chin, “Look at me?”

Baekhyun felt a blush creeping up his face as he looked at the older man. Minseok gently examined Baekhyun, wiping some of the blood from his lips with a swift motion of his thumb. After a brief sigh he left, returning with a small towel, asking Baekhyun to sit, which Baekhyun did.

Minseok carefully let the hot stream of water run over the towel before turning it off, squeezing it, before promptly proceeding to the task of wiping off the stranger’s blood from Baekhyun’s face, mixed with some of Baekhyun’s own. Baekhyun felt his nerves bristle at Minseok’s soft grip of his jaw, which still hadn’t quite healed.

Minseok directed Baekhyun to stand, which he slowly did, his legs aching slightly in effort. Minseok raised his eyebrows, tugging gently at Baekhyun’s bloodied shirt in question. Baekhyun gave a small, flustered nod, looking at Minseok, his eyes trailing over the tiny specks of emerald that danced in his Minseok’s.

As Minseok carefully slid Baekhyun’s jacket off and pulled the shirt over his head, Baekhyun felt his blush deepen and his stomach dip at the feeling of Minseok’s gentle fingers against his skin.

A small huff escaped Minseok’s lips before he could stop himself as his eyes fell on Baekhyun’s exposed chest, failing to cover his smile as he left to find a shirt that would fit.

Luckily, they were of similar height, but Minseok’s frame was slightly bigger, which made finding a suitable shirt difficult. Eventually, after digging through Baekhyun’s ungodly messy pile of clothes and finding nothing, he had opted for one of his own.

Not that he minded terribly.

When he returned, he found Baekhyun sitting on the edge of the bathtub, trying to scrub away some of the blood that had seeped through his shirt. Flustered, he quickly got up as Minseok returned, wiping his chest with a dry towel.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t find any of yours,” Minseok began apologetically, carefully grasping the sweater, unsure if Baekhyun would be offended or not.

“It’s fine” he responded a bit too quickly, and Minseok smiled in relief as he helped Baekhyun slide it over his shoulders. Every time Minseok’s fingers ran against his skin, Baekhyun blushed, a sudden rush of arousal rushing through him as Minseok - if only for just a moment, grasped his sides lightly, before pulling down the sweater.

They stood there for a moment or two, Baekhyun glancing down at Minseok as he cleaned up the blood that coated the sides of the bathroom sink, before turning the tap off. As he turned to Baekhyun again and stepped into his space, Baekhyun felt smaller than ever.

After a few, hanging moments of silence, Minseok opened his mouth.

“I’m not sure you know how much you affect me, Baekhyun.”

_What?_

Baekhyun’s mouth fell slightly open, the sentence replaying in his mind over and over, still failing to understand what the _fuck_ that was supposed to mean. He tried to think of _something,_ anything smart to say at all, but all he ended up with was a small,

“I guess I don’t?”, his voice a lot quieter than intended.

His chest pulsed with heat as Minseok responded by leaning in, brushing his lips over his own, cautiously at first, but more intensively as Baekhyun responded by kissing back. Relief and arousal rushed in waves through Baekhyun’s body as Minseok’s hands traced his back, coming to a stop at his hips. His eyes fluttered shut as his own hand uncertainly found itself on Minseok’s neck, drawing out an appreciative hum from the older man’s mouth. Baekhyun had never felt like heat like this before, and it was leaving him overwhelmed. He couldn’t stifle the sound that left his mouth when Minseok’s right hand took a firm grip on his hips, growing increasingly frustrated at how powerless he felt as Minseok’s mouth conquered his, just like he had already conquered his mind by now.

Time had grinded to a full stop. This was nothing like the blurriness of any of his drunk one-night stands. Every small movement of Minseok’s tongue every little trace of Minseok’s body against his own was ingrained in his mind, demanding to be felt. It was overwhelming, and Baekhyun wasn’t sure how long he could do this without overflowing with want.

Baekhyun was the first to break the kiss, desperately needing to fill his lungs with air again as Minseok had stripped him of it. As his eyes landed on Minseok’s flushed, reddened lips, he blushed at the realisation of what had just happened. “I-I’m sorry,” he mumbled cautiously, feeling like too many boundaries had already been stepped over.

Minseok just responded by tilting his head slightly.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked cautiously, but not letting go of the grip he held on Baekhyun’s hip and side. Baekhyun only responded by pulling Minseok back and taking his lips, desperate to feel the intoxicating taste of Minseok in his system again.

After a few, messy minutes, they somehow ended up in the bedroom, Baekhyun’s back pressed against the soft bed, Minseok on top of him. The already existing pile of clothes by the bed had slowly grown larger.

It was almost a shame to see Baekhyun throw away his sweater after his meticulous search, Minseok tutted in passing thought.

Baekhyun let out a weak, powerless moan as Minseok’s thigh slipped between his own, spreading his legs apart on the bed, a wave of arousal rushing over him at every kiss and mark Minseok placed on his neck and chest. His hands ran over Minseok’s tight chest and back, desperate to feel his body under his hands. “You’re so beautiful, Baekhyun,” Minseok mumbled, almost _moaning_ as his high pressed down harder, pulling a soft gasp from Baekhyun’s lips.

“S-So are-“

Minseok swallowed the rest of his sentence in a warm kiss, stealing Baekhyun’s breath away as he grinded harder against Baekhyun’s growing bulge, causing Baekhyun’s breath to hitch. The background hum of thoughts and doubts quickly faded into the background as Minseok kissed him harder, a hand edging firmly at Baekhyun’s belt.

He paused as the dull buzzing of a phone filled the empty bedroom. Baekhyun looked up at Minseok, a breathy question at his lips as Minseok glanced at his own pants. He bit his lip, finding it hard to take his eyes off the half-naked man underneath him. But if it was Jongin, he didn’t really have a choice. He threw an apologetic glance at Baekhyun before reluctantly pulling the phone from his pocket. He squinted at the brightness of the phone, but upon reading the name _“Kim Jongin”_ as it glared on the screen, a defeated sigh left his lips.

“Who is it?” Baekhyun asked quietly, as if he didn’t already know, distraughtedly running his fingers over Minseok’s exposed chest.

“It’s Jongin,” Minseok mumbled, the tone of his voice frustrated as his eyes scanned the barrage of messages popping up on his screen, a small frown crowning his eyebrows as his eyes made it further down on the screen.

With a regretful sigh, he closed the phone and put it back in his pocket, looking apologetically at Baekhyun’s worried face as he gently massaged his tense shoulder with this thumb. “We have to go.”

“Why?” Baekhyun asked, a small pout threatening to appear on his lips a she looked up at Minseok, desperately not wanting to leave _this._

“I don’t know,” Minseok mumbled, “something about a “message”, and that you had to come.”

Baekhyun frowned in response, cursing Jongin in his head.

“I can’t really refuse Jongin right now, sadly,” Minseok added, an apologetic smile tugging at his lips.

“I know,” Baekhyun mumbled in understanding, pushing himself up on his elbows to face the man above him.

Minseok placed a hungry kiss on Baekhyun’s flushed lips before pulling them both out of bed.

 

 

_23:02_

 

 

The harsh, cold Seoul air ripped at Baekhyun’s face, his grip on Minseok’s waist a bit too harsh. Baekhyun happened to be the only one equipped with a motorbike, but Minseok had refused to let him drive because of his arm, and Baekhyun had reluctantly agreed to let him drive it after a lot of protesting.

Feeling Minseok’s tense body in his arms as they rushed through the Soul traffic, streaks of neon flashing by as they made their way through the city, his mind was left in limbo, as the reality of what could have happened with Minseok danced freely in his mind. His leg was stinging slightly, but he chose to ignore it.

This would be the first time Baekhyun returned to Myung-pa since his escape, and Jiyong’s death, but surprisingly, returning now to the place where he had been held and tortured for days somehow made him feel more in control than ever. He assumed Minseok didn’t feel quite the same way, judging from his failure to mask how on edge he was as they departed.

To be fair, that could also be because of Jongin and Chanyeol.

Baekhyun’s meddling in gang culture hadn’t gotten off to a great start - to put it lightly, the only small consolation being that at least he now had Minseok as a result. More importantly, he still had friends who actually cared about him. It was often considered a weakness, and Baekhyun had fought against it at first, but having people around you who actually gave s hit about you, it made the reality of working in this city a little bit easier.

The reality of the city being that anyone touched by it came out rotten.

Minseok parked the bike just outside the large, relatively dark building, the distant sound of sirens going straight to the unsettling feeling that was pooling in Baekhyun’s gut as they made their way to the entrance of the building, the light seeping through the door glaring at Baekhyun as they got closer.

Before they entered, Minseok grabbed Baekhyun’s arm, pulling him towards him into a long, warm kiss that had Baekhyun keening.

“The moment things get bad, you let me, ok?” Minseok brushed Baekhyun’s chin of dust that didn’t exist. All Baekhyun’s mind could focus on was the sharpness and darkness in Minseok’s eyes when he looked at him, carrying an underlying tone that he hadn’t quite leanred to decipher.

Before assuring Minseok that he was in fact perfectly fine, they both entered the building, Baekhyun’s hand tracing the supressed pistol strapped to his thigh.

As they made their way through the mostly empty halls, following the distant sound of voices, Baekhyun’s stomach began to turn at the metallic smell still seeping through the air of the place. He remembered small places they walked through from sudden flashes of memory, causing Baekhyun to bristle at every step he took. The place reeked of destruction and abandonment, heightened by the revolting lingering smell of blood that had seeped into the building’s foundations.

Minseok ground his teeth, memories of Jongdae forcing themselves into his mind, refusing to leave him alone as they made their way up the stairs.

Eventually they found Jongin, Kyungsoo, Chanyeol and several of Jongin’s members lounging in one of the larger rooms.  Coincidentally, the same room in which Minseok had shot Baekhyunl - where Jiyong had called Chanyeol using Baekhyun’s own phone. Baekhyun felt like he was going to throw up, pulsing sensations and memories flooding his head.

Memories of Minseok pulling the trigger…

“Baek?” Baekhyun stifled a jump as Chanyeol’s low voice cut through his endless barrage of thoughts. Baekhyun took a deep, shaky breath, pushing a smile at Chanyeol.

“It’s fine,” he reassured him, and Chanyeol nodded - unconvinced, squeezing his shoulder lightly.

You could feel the tense glare Kyungsoo was throwing Minseok from Jongin’s side at as Jongin talked quietly to Minseok.

Eventually Jongin pushed himself up from the desk where Jiyong had once sat, strips of silver hair slipping down his forehead as he furrowed his brows. He motioned for Baekhyun to follow as he made his way to the stairs. There was a certain heaviness to his step that Baekhyun hadn’t seen before, making him wonder what the “message” he had talked about entailed.

As they made their way through the disturbingly familiar corridors down to the bottom floor, Baekhyun feeling his chest tense up, Minseok gently squeezed his hand in passing, shooting him an assured glance, as if to comfort him.

A weird sensation was rushing through Baekhyun’s body. The eerie silence didn’t help.

As they approached Baekhyun’s old cell, the gross, thick smell of sweat and blood had grown significantly stronger, and Baekhyun had unconsciously started grinding his teeth, his heartbeat quickening for all the wrong reasons. Jongin shot Baekhyun a quick glance before stepping into the cell, followed by Minseok.

Baekhyun felt like he was going throw up as the sight that met him. The cell was brightly lit - the bright, cold light of two floodlights falling on the wall in front of them, on a truly horrific scene. Slumped against the wall was the mutilated body of a man, his decapitated head resting in his lap. The man’s business suit was drenched in blood, and the pale, dead eyes of his decapitated head resting in his lap seemed to stare directly at Baekhyun. The thick smell of rotten flesh was inescapable, no matter how tightly you held your breath.

What was written, in what looked like blood, above the body was at first hard to read, but Baekhyun soon made out the words above an arrow pointing down at the body:

_‘Xiumin + his bitch’_

The cruel joke stared Baekhyun in the face, as Jongin’s voice seemed distant and far away as he squatted in front of the body. Any words being exchanged between Minseok and Jongin sounded far away as waves of nausea pulsed over him.

His mind attempted to process the flood of questions and feelings that were rushing over him, but he tried to push it away, hearing Jongin’s voice directed at him.

“Baekhyun?” Jongin’s voice cut through his mind like glass, and he jumped slightly.

“What?” he snapped, a bit too harsh, causing Jongin to briefly narrow his eyes in annoyance.

“Whoever did this is trying to target Xiumin by targeting you.” Jongin’s dark piercing eyes flickered between the two, as Baekhyun could feel Minseok’s comforting hand against his back.

Baekhyun breathed sharply, nodding curtly. Something felt very wrong, and it wasn’t because of the murder scene. Minseok looked up in concern as he felt Bakehyun’s shirt stick to his back because of the sweat.

“Who was he?” Minseok asked, causing Jongin to push himself up to stand.

“A new informant from the US embassy. We hadn’t done much business with him, but he was clearly not the real target regardless.” He raised his eyebrow slightly at Minseok.

Minseok sighed, his eyes fixed on the decapitated corpse, the annoying ticking sound of the floodlights filling the room.

“It could be anyone,” he mumbled, “but seems more like something Kris or Lisa would do.” Minseok sighed, running a hand through his hair. “They were very loyal to Jiyong…”

Baekhyun was feeling weird, like it was hard to breathe. He assumed it was because of the fact that he was standing in his old cell, and because of the terrifying murder scene in front of him, but his nerves tingled with pain, sweat prickling his skin as his legs felt like they were going to give out from beneath him. Something wasn’t right.

 _I have to find Chanyeol_ , was the only though in his head as his eyes flashed, hearing Minseok and Jongin’s voices behind him, unintelligble. As he stumbled up the stairs, gasping Chanyeol’s name, feeling his throat slowly constrict on itself, he saw Chanyeol running over.

Baekhyun stumbled, falling face first onto the hard floor, his head spinning way too fast. As he tried to push himself up, the ringing in his ear blinding him, he felt Chanyeol’s hands on him, and the distant shouting of voices.

Chanyeol yelled for Jongin as he turned Baekhyun over, and at seeing the panicked look in his eyes, he felt his panic rising. This wasn’t like Baekhyun. Over the incessant shouting of Kyungsoo and Minseok, he checked Baekhyun’s vitals, feeling panic insue as Baekhyun’s eyes slipped back, and hearing Baekhyun’s desperate choking sounds.

As he yelled for Xiumin to get his bag, he flipped Baekhyun over to his side and held his head back, trying to clear his airways. His hands were trembling as he tried to hold a panicking Baekhyun down. As he scurried through his bag he yelled for Xiumin to hold Baekhyun’s head back, searching for anything that could help. He suspected poison, but he didn’t know exactly which one. Eventually he found what he was looking for, a liquid that would open up Baekhyun’s restricted airways.

The only problem was how to get him to swallow it. Acting instinctively, he pushed Xiumin aside, holding Baekhyun’s jaws open, and pouring the content of the vial down Baekhyun’s gurgling throat, then holding it shut to try and force Baekhyun to swallow it, hoping that it wouldn’t make him throw up. He could see Xiumin’s horrified face out of the corner of his eye. Eventually, as he heard the horrible, sharp sound of Baekhyun gasping for air, he let go, turning to his bag again. He eventually found what he was looking for – a small shot, filled with liquid that had a disturbing shade of purple to it.

“Hold him down, Xiumin,” he murmured, as he ripped the gun strap from Baekhyun’s thigh and threw it aside, promptly cutting up a part of Baekhyun’s pants with his knife, ripping open a gash, exposing Baekhyun’s pale skin. Judging that there was no time for disinfection, he simply ripped the cap of the shot, and shoved it into Baekhyun’s flesh, pressing out its contents.

A few agonising minutes later, Baekhyun was starting to calm down, his breathing returning to some kind of normal, as he felt reality returning to him, slowly but surely, his head still spinning. Poison. Someone had poisoned him. The words resonated in his head, but he didn’t the capacity to answer any questions that arose from it, trying to focus on the feeling of Minseok’s hands running through his hair, scraping his fingers against Baekhyun’s scalp gently. He could taste the bile in his mouth.

Chanyeol was trying to calm his trembling hands as he ran his hands up Baekhyun’s legs, seeing if he could find any kind of entry wound. Eventually, his hands ran over a bump in Baekhyun’s leg, and he stopped, throwing a quick look at Xiumin, who was already watching him. Understanding what Chanyeol wanted, he handed over the knife, watching him cut open Baekhyun’s jeans again. After a few moments of prodding, he ripped out a small object, making Baekhyun wince through the cloud of nausea that occupied his mind. He sighed deeply, looking up at Jongin, who was standing a few meters away, already making phone calls.

“Some kind of neurotoxin,” he said to Jongin, who nodded in resignation - not answering, but continued to talk into his phone. Chanyeol’s voice was shaky, thanking any gods out there that he had chosen the right shot.

“Kris always knew his way around poisons,” Minseok mumbled, speaking more to himself than anyone else. The memory of how Kris had looked at him after he failed to kill Baekhyun flashed in front of him, causing him to bite his lip.

Baekhyun eventually tried to push himself up, getting some support from Minseok, who was squatting behind him. He was still really dizzy and nauseous, trying to swallow down the dryness and bile from his mouth, his hair sticking to his forehead in sweat. Chanyeol checked his eyes again, seeing that the pupils were slowly returning to their normal size. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“How are you feeling?” his voice was gentle as he watched Baekhyun’s heavy eyes. Before Baekhyun could speak, he leaned down to the floor, as his stomach contents emptied onto the floor. Minseok winced as he gently patted Baekhyun on the back, feeling Baekhyun’s trembling body under his hand. Chanyeol got up slowly, shooting a quick look at Minseok.

Jongin looked at the small object in Chanyeol’s hand, closing Chanyeol’s hand over it. “Send it to Sehun, see if he can track it.” His voice was laced with exhaustion. Chanyeol nodded, meeting Kyungsoo’s worried and angry eyes before picking up his stuff.

“Give it to Johnny, you should stay and watch him,” Jongin said in reference to Baekhyun, who was leaned against Minseok against the wall. Chanyeol met Jongin’s dark eyes for several moments, distractedly tracing the possessive grip his arm had around Kyungsoo’s waist, as if he was trying to keep Kyungsoo from moving. “If Kris was able to tail you he knows where you live, so we’ll drop you off at one of our safe-houses until the situation blows over,” Jongin said to Baekhyun. Baekhyun huffed, his eyes meeting Jongin’s.

“Grab whatever shit you from your apartment. You too, Xiumin.”

Baekhyun nodded. It was the best he could ask for.

Kyungsoo was looking away, furiously.

After handing Johnny the small object and mouthing a small threat in regards to what would happen if he lost it, he returned to Baekhyun, who was leaning against Xiumin. Baekhyun tried to focus on the outlines of Chanyeol’s face as Chanyeol held his fingers to Baekhyun’s wrist. Chanyeol sighed, resting his forehead on Baekhyun’s for a moment, cursing him silently, not caring about Xiumin’s slightly irritated look for the moment. This was the second time in too short of a timespan he’d had to watch his best friend fight for his life, and he was fucking tired of it.

And both times he couldn’t help but think how shitty it was to care so much about someone else in this business. Having strings that could be pulled.

Chanyeol huffed as Baekhyun mouthed a weak “thank you”, responding with something snappy, as he returned to his medical bag, digging through it.

-

Jongin shut his phone, sighing into Kyungsoo’s neck, cursing Kris in his head. It’s not that he didn’t expect the legacy of Jiyong to linger, but he hadn’t expected it to be this messed up - this direct, his mind lingering on the decapitated body of his now former informant. He bit his lip and sighed, tightening his grip on Kyungsoo slightly, placing a light kiss on Kyungsoo’s ear. Kyungsoo didn’t look at him, but felt his heartbeat skip a jump regardless. If it was because of his anger about what happened to Baekhyun or because his feelings toward Jongin extended what was expected of him, he didn’t know.

His spiralling thought process was interrupted by Jongin turning him to face him, as an excuse to straighten the collar on his shirt.

“Come home with me,” Jongin hummed quietly, dusting off Kyungsoo’s dirty jacket.

“And leave Baekhyun?” he asked Jongin in disbelief, who huffed, very well used to Kyungsoo’s ways by now.

“Baekhyun has Chanyeol and Xiumin, he’s well taken care of,” Jongin tilted his head slightly, holding Kyungsoo’s chin up with his finger, bringing a deep blush to his ears and an irritated shine to his eyes. “He doesn’t need you right now, I do.” Kyungsoo huffed. It didn’t sound like a question. He glanced over to Baekhyun, who was being forced by Chanyeol to swallow down some pills, while leaning against Xiumin’s chest.

He supposed Jongin was right. But his suspicion of Xiumin was deeply rooted. And Jongin was hard to turn down, when any time he looked at Kyungsoo with those dark eyes and pouted lips he had Kyungsoo keening.

Jongin had apparently already decided for him, and was packing up. Jongin had his car, and Xiumin inisted on taking Baekhyun’s bike. Kyungsoo ended up carrying Baekhyun (with much effort) with Jongin’s help, while Xiumin and Chanyeol got on the bike. Chanyeol held onto Xiumin’s waist as they drove off to their apartment to get something.

It was a truly bizzare sight, and Chaneyol definitely didn’t look happy.

When they finally got in the car, Baekhyun’s head was resting in Kyungsoo’s lap in the backseat whilst Jongin was driving. The car was dark and comfortable, the soft hum of the engine causing Baekhyun’s eyelashes to flutter against his cheeks.

“You fucking idiot,” Kyungsoo mumbled under his breath as he rested his hand on Baekhyun’s chest, the muffled, blurry outside world rushing by as Jongin drove. Baekhyun mumbled something unintelligible, but didn’t retaliate further. Kyungsoo smiled slightly, rolling his eyes at the kid, his chest a little bit tight. Knowing how vulnerable Baekhyun had made himself made him more worried than he’d ever been for him, something he would never admit. A few minutes into the ride, his eyes locked with Jongin’s through the rear-view mirror, causing Kyungsoo’s skin to heat up. It was so frustrating how easily Jongin could assert himself over Kyungsoo with a simple head tilt or a smug smile, abolishing any thoughts previously occupying Kyungsoo’s head, any sense of superiority he had as his hyung. He would be lying if he hadn’t noticed almost any time they brushed up together, how Jongin always took the chance to call him out for stuff he could let slide with others. He glanced away, biting his lip slightly, the dark arousal flashing through his boss’ eyes lingering in his mind.

Jongin gripped the steering wheel harder.

As they arrived outside the remote, empty apartment in the outskirts of Yangcheon. Jongin stopped the car, the car turning eerily quiet as Jongin stepped outside, opening the back door, the cold Seoul air brushing over Kyungsoo’s face as he helped Baekhyun out of the car. Xiumin and Chanyeol arrived minutes later, the bike coming to a screeching halt.

Baekhyun struggled to stay on his legs, the world a spinning blur around him, registering Kyungsoo’s arms around him, saying something annoying to which Baekhyun retaliated with a suggestive nod towards Jongin, who was leaned against the car taking a phone call, almost causing Kyungsoo to send Baekhyun to the ground. Xiumin quickly took over, supporting Baekhyun’s body as he stumbled to the door, giving a look of thanks to Kyungsoo, who bit his lip briefly, watching Xiumin trail closely after his friend into their apartment building.

Chanyeol raised his eyebrows pertinently at Kyungsooin question. _“Oh,”_ he let out in realisation, unable to stop the sleazy smirk creeping up his face as his eyes flickered between Kyungsoo and Kim Jongin. Kyungsoo smacked him up the head before returning to the car, hearing the door shut behind him as Jongin glanced over.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The cold night air had Kyungsoo shuddering, his eyes looking at nothing but the door for a few, long moments, letting his tired mind linger in comfortable limbo. The light tap of fingers against the cold metal of the car had him turning around, seeing one of Jongin’s outstretched arms waiting for Kyungsoo to hold, the other one occupied as he talked into his phone. Jongin’s small (and absolutely breath-taking) grin caused Kyungsoo to roll his eyes, slowly making his way over, leaning his head against Jongin’s neck and stealing his body heat as Jongin kept talking into his phone. He closed his eyes as Jongin ran his thumb in small circles on Sehun’s neck, feeling a tightness in his chest that was not ideal. He shut out the concerns for just a moment, revelling in the comfort of Jongin’s body heat, taking in the vibrations from his chest as he spoke - lulled into a sense of comfort that made him feel just a little bit more whole.

Everything about Jongin was so deceivingly soft and incredibly dangerous at the same time. Being close to him was like petting a grenade. Kyungsoo sighed deeply, trying to bury his face deeper into his chest, wanting to forget about everything else but how good it felt to bury his head against Jongin’s chest.

A few moments later, Kyungsoo felt Jongin’s full embrace as his hand rubbed up his back, placing a gentle kiss on Kyungsoo’s furrowed brows.

His heart soared, but he chose to ignore it.

As Jongin pulled out of the grasp, he placed a short, breathtakingly sweet kiss on Kyungsoo’s lips - intending to leave him unsatisfied – which he did. He chuckled deeply as Kyungsoo turned away flustered, gently squeezing his ass before he made his way to the driver’s seat, slamming the door of the car behind him as he started the engine. Kyungsoo bit his lip in embarrassment, a bit sour, but not wanting to keep his boss waiting he slipped into the car as well and closing the door behind him. He leaned his heavy head back, sighing in the warm comfort of the car as Jongin started driving.

Everything outside of the car seemed to disappear as Jongin drove, tranquillity slipping over Kyungsoo’s mind like a blanket, desperately wanting to forget today’s events and start over. He’d also prefer to not think about Jongin for just a moment longer, which turned out to be difficult. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he knew from the get-go that things would end badly. He knew that while Jongin occupied his mind more of the day than he’d ever care to admit, to Jongin he was just a convenient stress relief – easily replaceable, easily discarded. He wondered how many people had been sitting where he was sitting now, positive that they meant as much to Jongin as he did to them.

When Baekhyun warned him about getting involved in gang contracts, he must have been right.

Jongin refused to let Kyungsoo’s mind wander any more as he gently squeezed Kyungsoo’s thigh as he drove, not taking his eyes of the road. A small smile pulled on Jongin’s lips as Kyungsoo failed to stifle the blush that creeped up his face. The fact that the most dangerous mouth in the city – in the country even - could emit such a sweet and innocent, even shy vibe didn’t sit well with Kyungsoo, by now well aware of the undertones of dominance that that smile actually had. He looked out the window, relishing in the warm feeling of Jongin’s hand on his thigh. The squeeze was gentler than usual, for some reason, making Kyungsoo question his motives. It was like a test, but a test for what, Kyungsoo had no idea. He sighed, biting his lip in distraction. His mind wandered over to Baekhyun. He couldn’t help but feel guilty. He was kind of the reason all of this happened, wasn’t he? all, he was the one who had suggested the mission in the first place. Jongin’s mission. Was this all his fault?

“You’re thinking,” Jongin’s voice was deep and sweet as he squeezed a little bit harder.

“Maybe,” Kyungsoo mumbled, his brows furrowing together slightly.

Jongin sighed, that smile on his lips again, as the car halted to a stop, the humming of the engine going silent. Kyungsoo raised his eyebrows, looking around. “Are we already – “

Already? He had completely lost track of time. Jongin got out of the driver’s seat, shutting the door behind him. Kyungsoo shuddered. The exhaustion seemed to be getting to him. But he still had that tingling sense of nervousness in his chest that he always around Kim Jongin.

He shuddered as the cold of night hit him, stretching his aching muscles slightly as he stood up, stifling a jump as Jongin’s hand on the small of his back, nudging him along into the house.

He had never actually been at his boss’ house before – not this one, it had always been at some flashy apartment in Seoul, but knew Jongin had a large house outside of Seoul. Jongin chuckled at Kyungsoo’s tired and bewildered expression, playfully pushing him along I front of him into the enveloping warmth of the house after opening the door.

Kyungsoo blinked and stopped in shock as his eyes met the interior of the house. He knew Jongin was rich, but this was… a lot. Just the hallway was larger than his own apartment, he thought as Jongin strode past him, headed for the kitchen. After taking off his shoes, he made his way into the living room - presumably, he wasn’t sure. He relished in the lovely smell that enveloped the house. It was very different from headquarters. Musky, relaxing even. Wow. It was kind of intoxicating. He strode around aimlessly for a few minutes, until he found Jongin in what looked like an office. Seeing _Kim Jongin_ surrounded by books was like seeing a bird swimming in the ocean. Someone with that many tattoos didn’t really fit in well in an office surrounded by books. As Jongin looked up, he noticed the shorter man.

“There you are,” He cooed, as if he wasn’t the one who had left Kyungsoo to get lost in the giant house. Jongin, putting some papers down, made his way over to Kyungsoo who was just standing there aimlessly, suddenly feeling trapped as the taller, younger man close in on him. He let out a breath he had been holding for some time as Jongin pushed him against the doorframe – a deep blush creeping up his face as Jongin shamelessly pinned both of his arms over his head. He blushed, just as intended, but couldn’t cover it with his hands like he usually did, and was forced to meet Jongin’s dark, lust-filled eyes that were shamelessly pinning him down. Kyungsoo’s attempts at protesting were caught in his throat as Jongin’s hand slipped between his thighs, forcing them apart.

“It should be illegal to look this delicious.” His voice was deep quiet as he slowly proceeded to mark Kyungsoo’s exposed neck, making the air feel stuck in his throat as he tried to muffle his moan. “ _Hyung,”_ he added, putting extra weight to the word, as if to strip it of its meaning. All of a sudden, Jongin’s lips pressed against against his own, a wave of arousal hitting him as Jongin’s intoxicating taste seeped into his mouth. He failed to stifle the weak moan that escaped from his mouth, a warm feeling pooling in his stomach as Jongin’s grip on his wrists tightened, their tongues interlapping and touching.

 “S-shit,” Kyungsoo’s breath hitched as Jongin’s thigh pressed against his growing crotch, but not quite hard enough to satisfy him.

“Bedroom.” Jongin’s voice was quiet, flat - and Kyungsoo did as he was asked, pushed playfully in front of Jongin up the stairs, anticipation rushing through him. As he was pushed onto the large bed on the upper floor, Jongin straddled him on top, filling up his entire universe.

Jongin playfully ran a thumb along Kyungsoo’s lower lip, sending a deep shudder through Kyunsgoo’s body. “I want you to say your safeword. Do you remember it?”

“Vinegar,” Kyungsoo replied, his voice breathy as Jongin’s body weight pressed down against his crotch. “Very good,” Jongin cooed, pushing Kyungsoo’s head back with an affirmative grip on his neck. “Remember it,” Jongin mumbled, Kyungsoo’s breath caught in his throat as Jongin teasingly ground down on his hips.

Before he knew it, Jongin pulled him up to a sitting position, not moving from his lap, still pressing his hips against Kyungsoo’s. “Take your shirt off for me.” Jongin hummed. Kyungsoo did as he was told, quietly grapping the fabric at the nape of his neck and pulling it over the head, letting it fall to the floor. Jongin smirked slightly, causing Kyungsoo to feel another dip in his stomach.

Suddenly, he was swiftly pushed back onto the bed again, the soft bed caving slightly on impact. Without hesitation, Jongin’s fingers unbuckled his belt, swiftly and harshly dragging Kyungsoo’s pants off his legs, the underwear quickly following, leaving Kyungsoo fully exposed. A hot blush creeped up his cheeks as he felt Jongin’s eyes roam over his exposed body, squirming in arousal at the silent hum of appreciation that left Jongin. Jongin was apparently not in the mood for waiting tonight, as he pushed Kyungsoo up the bed, taking a rather firm hold on his hips as his mouth edged closer to his cock, which already half-hard from all the teasing. With one last, dark look that reeked of dominance and arousal, he let his tongue flick up the underside of Kyungsoo’s cock, causing Kyungsoo’s head to fall back against the bed, a small gasp escaping his lips at the feeling of Jongin’s warm tongue brush over him.

He failed to stop his hips from jerking forward as Jongin deftly ran his tongue over it, earning a small growl from Jongin, who proceeded to pin his hips to the bed with a firm, unrelenting grip. Kyungsoo failed to stifle the sound that left his mouth as Jongin took in his head in his mouth, the warm feeling of Jongin’s mouth making him shudder with overwhelming want. Jongin had him at this point, making him jerk at every move, still pressing his hips down on the bed, coaxing Kyungsoo to full hardness. When he took all of Kyungsoo into his mouth, he hummed at the look of Kyungsoo’s face, the vibrations causing Kyungsoo to keen, mustering all of his remaining self-restraint to not fuck up into the warmth of Jongin’s mouth. He let out a desperate cry as Jongin gently scraped his teeth up his cock, Jongin’s quiet chuckle resonating through his lower abdomen, gripping Kyungsoo’s hips harder.

“Such a little painslut,” Jongin cooed as he pulled away, licking up the saliva that coated his lower lip, climbing up to Kyungsoo, who’s body was screaming with want by now _. “Aren’t you?”_ he hummed quietly, his fingers digging into Kyungsoo’s side, pulling a loud gasp from the smaller man, who was now leaking with precum.

He cried out as Jongin’s hand met his exposed thigh, the burning pain causing a gasp to leave his lips. “I asked you a question,” Jongin repeated, quietly, as his thigh ground down on Kyungsoo’s leaking cock.

Kyungsoo shut his eyes, offering a shamed and reserved nod. Jongin’s voice made his skin crawl at how powerful it made him sound above him, as waves of shame and arousal pulsed through him.

“Of course you are,” Jongin chuckled, bending over the side off the bed to recover something from one of the drawers. As he returned, Kyungsoo’s eyes opened as he felt the bed cave beside him when Jongin slumped down beside him, lying on his side to get a good view of his fuck-toy. Kyungsoo swallowed, uncertain at what he was supposed to do, until the snap of a cap opening met his ears.

“Stretch yourself for me,” Jongin said, flatly- a dark, aroused look settling into his eyes. Kyungsoo felt a blush creeping up his face as he stuttered slightly, but no words left his mouth. His eyes flickered to his hand as Jongin poured a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. Flustered, and not being able to produce an intelligible response, he eventually complied, edging his back to allow his index finger to find his hole. As he pushed the first finger in, he let out a soft gasp, biting his lip slightly as he inserted it into himself, blushing under the heavy eyes of Jongin.

As he began to move, he slowly sank into the feeling, allowing his body to slide up and down his finger, arousal rushing through his body as he felt Jongin’s look of content run over his exposed body. As he inserted the second finger, the arousal had drowned out the shame, as he focused soley on the stretch, moaning slightly as he fucked his own hand. At the third finger, the angle was a bit uncomfortable, and sweat was starting to prickle on his forehead as his head fell back onto the bed, a stuttered moan leaving his tongue as he longed for Jongin to fuck him. After a few more moments, Jongin pulled out his hand, almost making Kyungsoo cry in relief as he slipped out of his pants, throwing them onto the floor with the shirt as he climbed on top of the smaller man, a dark look of arousal and dominance dripping from the way he held himself as he grinded his cock against Kyungsoo’s, earning a hiccupped moan from the other. Jongin didn’t feel like waiting, and simple lubed himself up, positioning him at Kyungsoo’s entrance, making Kyungsoo spread his legs even more, his heels digging into the bed in anticipation.

“Responsive as always.”

Kyungsoo whimpered in in anticipation, his thighs tensing up as Jongin possessively pushed his hips down with one hand, placing a secure grip on his shoulder on the other one.

A cry let rip from his throat as Jongin slammed into him without warning, the stretch almost too painful. Precum continued to leak from his cock as he struggled to catch his breath as Jongin comforted him with kisses against his neck. “You’re such a good boy,” he whispered in the older man’s ear, making Kyungsoo’s eyes shut as he struggled to adjust, the pain already sending waves of arousal through his body. He let out a weak, whimpering sound as Jongin stayed put, refusing to move without being begged to do so.

 “Was that a ‘please’ I heard?” he whispered at Kyungsoo’s ear, his eyes watering as he verbalised his wishes nothing more than a pathetically desperate whine. His “please” got stuck in his throat as Jongin pulled the tip out, proceeding to slam it back in, causing Kyungsoo to cry out in pain and pleasure, relishing in the feeling of having himself stretched around Jongin as he started to move, slowly at first, but slowly picking up his pace, low grunts escaping his lips. He pinned Kyungsoo’s hip to the bed as he moved, pulling a breathy, low moan from Kyungsoo’s lips as he picked his pace up, fucking into him harder at every thrust.

Kyungsoo couldn’t have muffled his moans if he tried, as when he tried to bring his hand to his mouth, it was deftly pinned down over his head, Jongin’s “I want to hear how good I make you feel, hyung,” resonating in his head. The sounds leaving his throat were growing less and less comprehensible as he was brought closer to the edge at each aggressive thrust, his cock brushing against Jongin’s stomach, leaking with precum.

“Jongin – Jongin, p-please” Kyungsoo stuttered out, increasingly desperate to come.

“No,” Jongin all but _growled,_ pinning his wrist down harder, refusing to slow down his pace. “Not until I say.” His boss’ hoarse voice resonated in every cell of his body as Kyungsoo’s eyes watered in frustration.

Kyungsoo let out a desperate sob, the tension in his abdomen tightening at each thrust.

“P-please, I’m so close – ah!” He cried out, his eyes watering as Jongin bit down on his collarbone, not breaking his quick pace as his hips thrust into Kyungsoo.

 Jongin quickened up his pace, all but slamming into him. “So pretty, begging around my cock,” _thrust, “_ Just for me, hmm?” Kyunsgoo cried out, the unbearable pleasure rolling over him as Jongin’s grip on his hips tightened, asking for more. His breathing stuttered as he breathed hard into Jongin’s neck, a noise leaving his throat at every thrust as Jongin found the perfect angle to rut into him.

“Come for me,” Jongin breathed, deeply and hoarsely into Kyungsoo’s ear as he pushed Kyungsoo’s jaw back, trapping the air in his throat. Kyungsoo’s breath stuttered, the lack of oxygen causing him to clench around his boss. Jongin took advantage of his exposed neck, marking it with his lips. Kyungsoo’s build up was finally pushed over the edge as he came in thick white spurts onto Jongin’s chest. Jongin gasped as Kyungsoo clenched around him, his hips snapping into him harder in search for his own release, making Kyungsoo writhe in over-stimulation.

Jongin gripped Kyungsoo hard as he tipped over the edge, fucking into him again and again, coming hard - a loud, hiccupped moan escaping his lips.

Jongin panted against Kyungsoo’s neck, both covered in sheens of sweat, trying to catch their breaths, reality slowly catching up to the both of them as Jongin collapsed beside him.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Jongin’s voice was tired but sweet as he placed a deep kiss on Kyungsoo’s lips, who struggled against the urge to just pass out in exhaustion. Little did he know this meant Jongin picking him up in his arms – bridal style, and carrying him to the shower. He didn’t have the energy to protest.

When they eventually made it to bed, Kyungsoo fell asleep in seconds with Jongin hugging him from behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it ❤ ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last completed chapter I have written so far, so I hope it's good ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ Enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: Blood, violence, exploitation, yunno, typical gang!AU stuff

_Chapter 5_

 

 

How Baekhyun even managed to get out of bed was an enigma. His fever had gone down slightly over night – mostly thanks to Chanyeol, but anytime he moved he felt nauseous, the world spinning relentlessly around him.

Thanks to some miracle Bakehyun managed to slip out of Minseok’s enveloping grasp without waking him. His hands fumbled in the dark room in his search for the door, not trusting his sense of balance enough to walk straight. He looked back as he opened the door, watching for a moment the blue shadows of the room fall on Minseok’s peaceful face as he slept. The only thing illuminating the dark room was the thin sliver to light seeping in from the window. He sighed, and left, not having the capacity to process his drowsy, feverish stream of thoughts. He fumbled as he made his way through the impossibly thin corridors of the apartment. They were staying in one of Jongin’s many safe-houses, nestled into Seoul’s most unassuming pockets – to try and throw off whoever was looking for them. Or him. _Whatever_ , he concluded as he pushed into the small, unassuming kitchen, reaching for the cupboards. His mouth was dry and his head was pounding, which Chanyeol had told him should be expected as his body dealt with the remaining traces of poison that was still in his system.

His fingers fumbled up through the dark cupboards for a glass, or a cup, anything at all.

“How are you feeling?”

Baekhyun stifled a jump at the sound of Chanyeol’s voice, shutting his eyes slightly as he tried to stop his hands from doing anything stupid, like dropping something. As he turned around his eyes fell on Chanyeol’s unassuming, tall figure leaned back in one of the chairs, a steaming cup of tea resting comfortably in his hands. Baekhyun sighed, grabbing a mug from the cupboards, and turning on the tap.

“Awful,” he muttered weakly, turning the tap off, making his way to the table and sitting down, trying not to spill as the vertigo kicked in. Chanyeol hummed in response, his voice sounding as tired as he looked as he sipped on the warm tea.

As he saw Baekhyun’s shuddering figure – missing the warmth of the covers and Xiumn’s body heat, he pushed his cup over the table, no questions asked. Baekhyun let out a thankful noise as his hands wrapped around the warm mug, breathing steadily as he battled the oncoming nauseating feeling that was always creeping in the background.

“You’ll feel better soon enough. Your system is just ridding itself of the toxins.” Chanyeol looked Baekhyun up and down as Baekhyun sipped on his tea.

Baekhyun didn’t answer, his nausea and dizziness not allowing him to produce any answer intelligible enough to satisfy him. “Thanks,” he eventually mumbled, his voice for once not sounding overly annoyed or ironic. Chanyeol huffed, taking his cup back as Baekhyun put it down.

“Don’t mention it,” he chuckled quietly, his eyes flickering between Baekhyun’s and his tea, a small uncertain smile on his lips.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” Baekhyun eventually broke the creeping silence, licking his dry lips as he spoke, hugging his legs close to his chest.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he replied, an answer that satisfied neither of them. His mind was brimming with unanswered questions, but he doubted Baekhyun felt like answering any of them at the moment. Eventually he gave into the pull of curiosity.

“So. Xiumin,” he began, hearing Baekhyun’s reserved groan from across the table.

“What about him?” Baekhyun’s voice carried a small undertone of defensiveness.

Chanyeol tilted his head slightly, his eyes glued on his friend – both of them knowing very well what Chanyeol was trying to ask.

“He sure seems to care about you,” Chanyeol stated relatively matter-of-factly, but implying a lot more – his deep voice carrying undertones that Baekhyun couldn’t really interpret in his current feverish state. Baekhyun rolled his eyes before looking down slightly, whilst Chanyeol patiently waited.

“Yeah,” he eventually sighed, his mind returning to Minseok as he fidgeted with the edges of his sleeves. “Yeah he does,” he mumbled, not looking at Chanyeol.

“Do you know why?” Chanyeol’s deep voice almost sounded accusing, causing Baekhyun to glance up at him - meeting his soft but composed facial expression.

He swallowed, thinking through his response in his head. “Honestly,” he paused, his eyes flickering slightly, “I’m not sure. He never actually told me why,” he said, slowly arriving at some ambiguous realisation.

Chanyeol shifted in his seat before responding, his composure more tense than before.

“Do you love him?”

His voice had an uncertain undertone – not an anticipatory one, but something darker. Baekhyun winced slightly, hugging his legs more closely, not looking at Chanyeol as a feverish shudder ran through his body.

“I don’t know, Chanyeol,” he mumbled, almost too quiet for Chanyeol to hear him. “I really don’t.” He buried his face in his knees, suddenly just feeling the urge to disappear. Because he didn’t know. Minseok was still very much an enigma to Baekhyun, but he couldn’t help but to be drawn to him anyway. Any time questions about Minseok’s underlying motivations brushed up against him, he became uncomfortable, because he wasn’t sure what the implications were. Or what they could be.

Chanyeol, seemingly realising Baekhyun was on the verge of tears in his feverish distress, gently pulled him up from his seat, dragging him over to the small sofa to wrap his arms around him. As Baekhyun laid on top of his chest, moisture soon dripping down on his shirt, he combed through Baekhyun’s messy, dirt-blonde hair with fingers. Chanyeol breathed deeply as Baekhyun’s breathing stilled. He closed his eyes, enjoying the moment a lot more than he probably should have, an uncomfortable but warm and content feeling creeping up into his chest as his arms wrapped around his smaller friend. He pushed it away, as usual, quietly continuing to run his fingers through Baekhyun’s hair.

 

 

 

 

 -

 

 

 

 

Minseok’s eyes burned as the comfortable sleep slipped away from him slowly. He breathed slowly, desperately wanting to slip back into sleep. His body ached horribly from the day before.

As the horrible realisation that his arms were grasping around nothing, his eyes flung open in sudden panic, realising that Baekhyun was not there. He let out a shaky breath, trying to calm his panic-struck body. He shouldn’t be worried. It’s not like Baekhyun really had the physical capacity to leave the safe house on his own at the moment anyway.

And Kris shouldn’t be a concern, considering they were in Jongin’s safe house.

Minseok closed his eyes, relishing in the wonderful, enveloping warmth of the covers for a few moments longer, his drowsiness making him reluctant to get up.

The room was still dark. He checked the time. 04:13. He sighed.

Eventually, driven by his urge to make sure Baekhyun was fine, he dragged himself out of bed, running his hands along the floor, pulling on one of the shirts that were sprawled out on the floor. He could have sworn he sorted them yesterday, but considering how everything Baekhyun even looked at became messy, he probably shouldn’t be too shocked. The room was comfortably quiet and dark, almost tranquilisingly so, he though as he grabbed his phone on the way out of the door. The small, dwindling corridors of Jongin’s safe house were maddeningly difficult to navigate through in the middle of the night. Eventually, he pushed into the dimly lit kitchen, blinkingly trying to comb out the distraughtedly messy hair on his head.

As he looked around, his heart stopped at the sight of Baekhyun’s body rested against Chanyeol’s chest in the couch in the other end of the kitchen. He felt his heart drop like a stone, stood frozen for several moments as the awful sight burned into his eyes. He tried to control his breathing as the horrible sight settled in him. Was it jealousy? Probably. Definitely. Baekhyun looked very peaceful as he slumped against Chanyeol, whose chin rested – posessively - on top of Baekhyun’s head.

Was this how Jongdae had felt?

Minseok desperately tried to push off the horrible stream of thoughts and impulses flooding his system as his eyes were glued on the sight. It was like he was watching a car accident unfold -  watching Baekhyun’s chest rise and fall peacefully.

Against Chanyeol’s.

He thanked God they both seemed to be asleep, not wanting either of them to see him like this. His hands were trembling at his sides, ignoring the dull buzzing of his phone. 

He felt his insides turn and his whole body freeze as he saw Chanyeol’s eyes open, falling on his face through the darkness of the room.

No movement, no smile. No nothing.

Just silent, judging eyes. Minseok struggled to breathe as Chanyeol’s half-open eyes looked at him, almost in victory. Minseok felt his jaw clench, fighting the urge to just throw his phone at Chanyeol’s horrible smug looking face. Chanyeol’s eyes silently screamed at him in victory, and he could swear he saw a smirk pull at his lips.

Before he could torture him any further, Minseok turned, storming out the room, angrily pressing back tears as he walked aimlessly back to his room. He fought the urge to just scream and throw himself against a wall, anger pumping through his veins as the image of Chanyeol’s victorious eyes burned into him.

He had almost crushed his phone in his hand before he realised through the mist of incessant rage and jealousy, when he saw the screen lit up with a dull buzz.

_[Kris]_

_> Let’s meet up for a chat. For old times sake._

The next text was the address to a small café not too far from their old headquarters. Minseok tried to still his breathing as he stared at his phone. Why did Kris want to meet him?

He knew why, of course, but he wasn’t sure what Kris’ motives were.

If he knew Kris, he just wanted to psyche him out. If he was planning on killing him - or something similar, he probably wouldn’t send Minseok texts in the middle of the night.

He also wondered what the point of meeting at a café in the middle of the night was. He sighed through gritted teeth, well aware that his pulsing anger was clouding his judgement, but his morbid curiosity was still pushing for the idea of meeting Kris again could be interesting, at the very least. And so was the urge to get as far as far away from this place as possible.

He slumped down on his bed, combing his fingers through his hair neurotically, resisting the urge to just rip it out. The question of why screamed in his head. Why? The question really came down if it was because of what he’d technically done to Baekhyun, or if it was something more. It seemed to lean towards something more. There had unmistakeably been something much more sinister than just friendly protectionism in Chanyeol’s eyes as Baekhyun laid on top of him.

He closed his eyes, trying to process all of the thoughts and emotions that rushed through him, but it was too much. The room itself felt suffocating - the walls closing in on him and the air slipping away, the infliction that Baekhyun was at this very moment sleeping on Chanyeol’s chest in the other room hitting him over and over again. He desperately needed to get away.

A few minutes later he was out the door, fresh air filling his lungs once again. He sent of a quick response text to Kris in afterthought as he kicked Baekhyun’s bike into overdrive. At this point he didn’t care if Baekhyun would be offended or not. Baekhyun had made his intentions clear enough already.

As he rushed through the ghost-like, empty streets of Seoul, his mind returned to him again, along with the spiteful, angry tears that he failed to hold back. The adrenaline rush that overcome him as he pushed up the speed of Baekhyun’s bike allowed him to streamline the disarray of thoughts and impulses that pulsed in his head.

In passing thought, he remembered that he should probably have told Jongin that he was doing this, an impulse to which he thought _fuck it_ as he turned, slowly approaching where he was headed. Jongin would just have to deal with it. The fact that anger was clouding his judgement didn’t appear to him, which it really should have.

He pushed the bike to a screeching halt, almost letting it fall to the ground before he collected himself enough to push it against the wall before puhsing into the small, dark coffee shop, the “closed” sign clattering against the door. Which was unlocked.

He saw Kris before he heard him – his eyes falling on his relaxed body, leaned back in a chair in the very corner of the café. It was almost a peaceful sight. The small source of light in the closed establishment cast small yellow shadows on his face as he sipped on a small cup of coffee. Of course he had made coffee – Kris wasn’t exactly known for asking before taking other people’s things, Minseok huffed in passing thought.

“I was honestly not sure if you’d show up,” Kris admitted, his eyes falling on Minseok’s frame as Minseok stood put in the door-way, massaging the pistol strapped to his leg.

“I made coffee,” Kris held up his mug in the absence of Minseok’s answer, the unhelpfully smug comment not resonating well in the stifle, dark interior of the café.

Minseok offered a small, reserved sigh as he made his way over to where Kris was sitting. Minseok masked his face well as Kris’s neutral expression sent shivers down his spine, well aware of what was hidden underneath.

Sitting opposite Kris in the café where they had spent so many spanning hours the last years felt surreal and wrong after all that had happened. Minseok swallowed briefly, still maintaining his neutral facial expression as his eyes stayed locked with Kris’. For a moment, it felt like he was looking into Jiyong’s eyes again – the dark, blank stare only occasionally broken by the familiarity of Kris’s deep, warm eyes. Even if they had that warm undertone for all the wrong reasons, it still caused a pang of nostalgia in Minseok. Kris was the one who finally broke the suffocating, creeping silence that lay over them like a blanket.

“So you’re Jongin’s bitch now.”

Minseok huffed, failing to stifle the urge to roll his eyes.

“What did he offer you? Was it money? A fat piece of Jiyong’s empire? Or was the promise of your own fuck-toy just enough?”

Kris almost looked pleased at himself when a muscle jumped in Minseok’s face as he clenched his jaws.

“Eloquent as always,” Minseok replied, rather matter-of-factly.

“So it’s true.” Kris raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.

Minseok failed to stifle a chuckle as Kris’ childishness resurfaced.

“I think the more interesting question is why you’re still acting like Jiyong is going to reward you for hurting me again.” A small, amused smile tugged discretely in the corners of Kris’s lips. “I’m afraid it’s a bit too late.”

“Yes, it is,” Kris sighed, stirring the coffee that was starting to grow cold. “Sadly. But,” he paused briefly to meet Minseok’s ice cold eyes again, “your petulant idea that you were somehow going to cast away our family without consequence still makes me kind of… disgusted.” Kris acted as if just talking about what Minseok had done tasted bad.

“So naturally you poison Baekhyun,” Minseok replied, a bit too quickly, a small trace of anger flashing through his eyes, something that Kris immediately picked up on, causing a small, victorious laugh to slip from his lips.

“Finally, we get to talk about your soft spot.”

 _“Soft spot,”_ Minseok repeated, mimicking Kris.

“He is though, isn’t he?” Kris inquired, leaning forward a little, the morbid curiosity in his bodily expression causing Minseok’s upper lip to twitch slightly, especially since he was reminded of their height difference. “I can’t see the Minseok of five years ago refusing to obey direct orders like you did when you refused Jiyong’s.”

Minseok breathed deeply, gathering his senses.

“Jiyong from five years ago would never order something like that. It was obvious for a long time that hid hold was slipping.” Kris raised his eyebrows in question as he sipped his coffee, causing Minseok’s nose to twitch in something close to anger.

“We both saw it.”

“We all see what we want to see when it suits us, Xiumin,” Kris shot back as he leaned back in his chair, gripping the table top.

“Don’t be naïve, Yifan.”

“The only one who’s naïve here is the one who thinks Jongin will reward him for helping him take down his rival.”

Minseok huffed slightly, his anger slowly rising to the surface. Kris usually didn’t get to him like this, but the memories of Chanyeol were still fresh in the back of his head. Unfortunately, Kris had always had a knack for pushing people to the edge.

“I don’t expect him too,” Minseok finally replied.

“Then what do you expect, Xiumin?” Kris narrowed his eyes in fake curiosity.

“I want to survive,” Minseok eventually replied, the half-lie not slipping by Kris, a smirk pulling on the other man’s lips.

“There’s something bothering you,” Kris stated matter-of-factly, staring blankly at Minseok, waiting to jump at the smallest sign of a crack in Minseok’s façade, “isn’t there?”

“Obviously, you dumb-wit,” Minseok snapped back, his composure starting to crack. Kris’ small smirk flashed before he spoke.

“You’re worried you sacrificed everything in vain,” Kris quietly filled in, watching Minseok’s anger swell at every word, “Something happened, “he said, hinting a mocking gasp. “Is your little sweetheart _cheating_ on you?” Kris’ gross smirk and obvious conjecture was almost enough for Minseok to lose it, Kris’ provocative comments hitting a little too close to home.

“Why are you doing this, Kris?” Minseok finally asked, the underlying anger in his voice bristling dangerously close to the surface.

“Well firstly,” Kris began, looking him dead in the eyes as he watched the ticking time bomb that was Minseok, “because I’m still loyal,” the words almost made Minseok flinch, knowing what Kris was actually meant, “and secondly, because watching someone who used to be my _best_ friend destroy our legacy for some cheap fuck toy of his, and not doing something about it just feels… wrong.” He let the last word hang in the air, the sound of Minseok’s stifled breathing being all that filled the otherwise eery silence between the two.

Minseok didn’t answer, just bit his tongue as his heartbeat quickened in anger. Kris tilted his head slightly as Minseok’s answer was left unspoken, small, tired curls of pitch blank hair gracing his forehead.

“You know what’s so tragic?” Kris continued in the absence of Minseok’s answer. “Jongdae may have bought into your silly antics last minute, costing him his life,” Minseok clenched his jaw tightly, “but your should have heard him after you tried to break up with him,” Kris laughed, a horrible, gut-wrenching laugh that made Minseok’s insides turn in rage.

Mentioning Jongdae now was pushing him closer and closer to the edge of his composure. Kris sighed, locking eyes with Minseok and leaned forward before resuming, as if to make sure Minseok heard every word he was about to say.

“He practically _begged_ me to fuck him, Minseok. You really should have seen it,” Minseok failed to still his quickening breathing, rage pushing to the surface. He saw nothing but red, pulsing rage as Kris resumed, maintaining his suffocating eye contact and pushing out every word he spoke, “It was pretty pathetic, actually.”

This is what finally sent Minseok over the edge, rage gripping every part of him as he pushed the table aside, sending the coffee cup to break in a million pieces as he lunged for Kris with a scream ripping from his throat, every inch of his body wanting to rip him to shreds. Kris tried to throw himself aside a second too late as Minseok’s booted heel met his chest, sending him flying back into a pile of chairs, the sound of wood breaking resonating in the small café along with the sound of Kris’ grunt as the air was pushed from his lungs. Pain rushed from his head through his body, but he was composed enough to take Misneok’s legs out from under him as he tried to lunge at him again, sending a pained gasp from Minseok’s throat as his back met the ground hard, winded at the pain. Before he could regain himself, Kris straddled him, slamming his knee into Minseok’s chest before gripping his shirt, Minseok’s gritted gasp resonating loudly before Kris’ clenched fist met his jaw. Through the blinding, white pain, Minseok had enough composure to slam his knees into Kris’ back, sending him off him with a pained grunt, allowing Minseok to stumble to his feet, blood dripping from his face. Before Kris got up as Minseok ripped his gun from the strap on his leg and reloaded the chamber.

Kris breathed harrow breaths as he slowly stood up, the barrel of the gun following the movements of his head. Minseok took a decisive step forward at the sight of Kris’ fingers brushing over the gun strapped to his waist. Kris’ chuckle escaped between his harrow breaths, as he looked directly at the end of Minseok’s barrel.

“Really?” Kris breathed, lowering his arms, not breaking eye contact. “How many friends are you going to kill, Xiumin?” Minseok failed to stop the growl that slipped though his gritted teeth. It felt like time had disappeared as he glared into Kris’ eyes, searching for any trace of the Kris he used to know.

Before he could respond, he froze at the feeling of cold metal pressed against his neck. He swallowed briefly, his insides turning at the relieved and smug look on Kris’ face.

 

 

 

 

 

_04:09_

 

It’s wasn’t that Suho disliked working with him. Quite the opposite, it turned out. As often as they ended up on duty together, he’d learned to appreciate the young man’s wide array of skills, at times even enjoying his presence. Not that that was the main reason – Sehun was a lot of fun in _other_ ways too. But despite his general attitude of irritability, the occasional flash of kindness and empathy was often what kept him grounded in stressful situations. When Jongin – as often happened – lost all thoughts of patience and realistic ambition, Suho usually ended up on the receiving end, and Sehun’s presence usually helped him deal with it better.

Just as Suho seemed to influence Sehun for the better.

But Sehun’s own lack of inhibition also struck in the worst of times, as his lack of knowing when his attitude went too far for Suho’s patience to hold was made painfully clear whenever their conversation shifted towards Jongin.

The fact that Jongin had put Suho on surveillance duty just so he could be left alone with his newly acquired fuck toy didn’t just hurt, it was more than aggravating. Mostly because he ended up feeling like a cheap stand-in for Jongin whenever Jongin didn’t feel like taking responsibility. But also because after all of his hard work, seeing some new inexperienced child – a freelancer, none the less – get so much of Jongin’s unbroken attention and time was driving him fucking crazy. But at least it was with Sehun, so there was always ways to make things less boring.

“Hyung?” Suho’s mind was snapped back to reality at the sound of Sehun’s voice as he tried to focus through the daze of tiredness and cigarette smoke that constantly surrounded him.

“What?” he snapped back, regretting the aggressive outburst as soon as it had left his mouth, but confused and upset none the less.

“I asked you a question,” Sehun stated, raising his eyebrows with a facial expression whose patronising undertones were too strong for Suho not to get irritated.

“Well, I wasn’t listening,” he mumbled, supressing a sigh with a rub on his neck as he felt bad at the look on Sehun’s face. No matter how patronising he could sometimes be, his soft, innocent expression somehow got to him every time.

Sehun let a sigh slip from his lips, leaning back in his chair, exhaustion eroding the both of them. “I asked you what Jongin told you,” he repeated once more, crossing his fingers to somehow contain his lack of patience.

“Just that I should be on the look out for now.” He glanced down, struggling not to get lost in thought.

Sehun chuckled quietly, both of them settling in the exhaustion-drenched silence between them. “Is this about Kyungsoo?” he eventually asked, earning a dead stare from Suho.

“The little fuck toy that makes Jongin drop everything? Yes, Sehun, it’s about him,” he snapped aggressively, his patience overridden long ago. As he realised what he’d just said, red creeped up his face at Sehun’s flustered but somehow simultaneously unsurprised face.

Sehun huffed, raising his eyebrows slightly before returning to his computer with a sigh, not bothering to comment. It always hurt a little when Suho snapped at him. Suho knew there was no taking his words back, so he just looked away into nothing in the empty office space, the silence only broken by the spinning sound of the few computers that were on. He didn’t think he disliked Kyungsoo personally – before all this, he honestly kind of liked him – but the way he had wrapped Jongin around him in the span of weeks was kind of ruining everything for Suho. Mostly because it meant he had to work more. The other reasons were harder to pinpoint.

Suho sighed in reservation, his neck sore and his eyes reddened. Sehun broke from his work to shoot him an apologetic glance, which he appreciated. Sehun’s patience with him was remarkable considering the huge workload on his shoulders as head of intelligence. Without him, Jongin would be lost by now. Sehun’s skills were, in Suho’s opinion, one of the larger reasons the city caved under their fingertips, even though he was still just a kid.

A sudden frown breaking on Sehun’s tired face caught Suho’s attention. “Suho,” he began carefully, and Suho quickly scooted up to his side to see whatever he was looking at, a hand inexplicably ending up on Sehun’s neck. _Contact between [U8k6t] and [Kl734_X] detected_. He frowned, uncertain to what he was supposed to react to. “Yifan and Xiumin,” Sehun blurted out, looking up at Suho before pulling up the specifics, the bright glow of the computer throwing a ghostly glow on their faces. Soon, texts appeared on the screen.

_[U8k6t] 03:06_

_Let’s meet up for a chat. For old times sake_

_[Kl734_X]_

_03:24_

_Sure_

Suho let out an aggressive sigh, cursing Xiumin in his head. Either he was an idiot _and_ a traitor – not smart enough to know that texts on _Jongin’s provided phone_ would be tracked – or something else had happened that made him loose his wits. And he found it hard to believe Xiumin could be _that_ stupid.

“Do you know where they’ll met?” Suho asked, his jumpy fingers tapping away at his phone to get Zitao to respond. Sehun didn’t immediately answer as he worked.

“Seems to be somewhere in south Gangpo,” Sehun eventually replied, fully immersed in his work. Suho didn’t need to respond, simply grabbing his shit and bolting down the dark stairs, grabbing Taeyong on the way.

 

 

 

 -

 

 

 

Minseok could smell her before she spoke. It was always that fucking perfume.

Kris stood up straight, demonstrating his full height, but hesitated to move towards Minseok. His gaze flickered between Minseok and the person standing behind him.

“Drop the gun”

Minseok huffed, wincing slightly as the cold metal of the gun pressed harder against his neck, but didn’t move his hand. He flinched as Lisa reloaded the chamber, the clattering of empty magazines against the floor increasing the rate of his heartbeat.

“Xiumin, I fucking told you-“

Her sentence was left hanging in the air as she collapsed forward, Minseok letting out a gasp as he felt warm blood on his back as he stumbled forward as to not fall when her body fell onto his own. Kris had frozen, and in panic Minseok pulled the trigger on his gun, a single bullet hitting Kris in the small of his leg, time muffled as adrenaline shot through his body. Minseok tried to regain his balance, flinching at the sound of Kris’ ripping scream as he collapsed onto the floor.

Minseok breathed deeply, trying to still his breath as the adrenaline rushed through his system, the horrible noises escaping Kris making him wince. He looked behind him at the now shattered window, letting the sight of the scene settle in, his eyes falling briefly on the body of Lisa, face first on the floor.

Of course it would be Lisa. Considering her past with Jiyong, she was probably on some similar demented kind of revenge mission as Kris.

As the implications of what he’d just done began to settle in – Jongin’s warning of _“no second chances, always do what I say”_ surfacing in his mind – Minseok took a deep breath, his stomach dropping like a stone as he realised the mess he’d gotten himself into.

_Fuck._

Looking back at Kris’ shaking body on the floor behind him, he realised there might still be a small chance for redemption. If he played his cards right, and more importantly if Jongin felt like letting this slide – if he deemed the price of Jiyong’s former right hand was enough, there was still hope.

As he dragged Kris out from the shattered coffee shop out onto the street outside and subsequently dumping him on the ground with a pained grunt, he was met with the face of Suho, closely trailed by Zitao and Taeyong. He paused as his eyes fell on the sniper bag that was slumped over Suho’s shoulder, quickly realising that Suho was the one who’d shot Lisa. At least he didn’t owe his life to someone like Zitao, he thought as Zitao looked at him with those typically judging eyes.

“Are you actually retarded?”

Xiumin rolled his eyes at Zitao’s comment, his booted heel meeting Kris’ wrist as he tried to push himself up from the ground – Kris’ harrowing cry echoing through the empty streets.

“I eliminated a problem,” he mumbled, not quite managing to meet Suho’s cold eyes.

“It didn’t really look like that most of the time,” Suho interrupted without reservation, watching Xiumin’s jaws clench in response, noticing his patience had ran out long ago, to which he didn’t have that much sympathy.

“Well?” Xiumin loudly replied after a beat of silence, raising his eyebrows and gesturing towards Kris, as if his words had failed him. His anger was bristling devastatingly close to the surface, as evident by the increased pitch of Kris breathing. As Kris started chuckling quietly, Xiumin’s heel pressed dangerously hard against his wrist, bringing a yell from his throat.

“Jongin won’t be happy.” Xiumin’s body tensed up in anger at Zitao’s comment, everything about the man infuriating him at the moment.

Xiumin didn’t respond as Taeyong, who had been silent the entire time, made his way over to Kris to pull him up.

“I got him what he wanted,” Xiumin mumbled, not for a second believing the promise of his words as he looked away, knowing very well he shouldn’t be so complacent. When his eyes met Suho’s, he saw something that made him stop for a moment – something more than just anger and irritation. It almost felt like Suho he saw that something wasn’t quite right in Xiumin’s explosive behaviour. His delirious thought spiral was soon interrupted by Zitao’s raised eyebrows, nudging him on. “Well??”

Xiumin stifled a sigh, looking after Kris as he was pulled along with a lot of struggle by Taeyong, watching the result of his bad decision making being dragged away in front of him, well aware that this was going to haunt him. His mind immediately turned to Chanyeol, finding an easy target to blame for decisions that he obviously had to own up to himself. All he wanted was to wrap his arms around Baekhyun and forget about all of this, but now even that wasn’t an option.

What tore at his chest most was what Kris had said about Jongdae. He wanted to believe with all of his heart that he was just making it all up to tear him down, but something told him that wasn’t the case. Anger and guilt burned in his chest as memories of Jongdae forced their way into his consciousness, despite his efforts to push them away.

His mind was lost to him for what felt like ages, lost in a storm of delirious and angry thoughts before he noticed Suho’s hand on him. He jumped at the touch, his mind finding him again - Suho’s deep, cold eyes fixed on him as if he was trying to solve a puzzle.

“You should probably stay at headquarters until Jongin shows up,” Suho said to break the surreal silence that enveloped the scene. Xiumin nodded reluctantly, the wrong kind of anticipation settling in his body as he went over to pull up Baekhyun’s bike. _Baekhyun’s_ bike. His tongue tasted the bitterness in his mouth as he stripped the helmet on.

_I’m so fucked._

 

 

 

 -

 

 

 

Baekhyun’s eyes fluttered as he slowly slipped out of his feverish dreams. His breathing stilled as he felt the comforting warmth of arms wrapped closely around him. He slowly realised that Xiumin had appeared several times in his dreams, often in… less than appropriate scenarios. A blush slowly creeped up his face, as he focused on coming to terms with the immense comfort of lying on Xiumin’s firm chest, having his arms envelop him, his blush deepening as he felt Xiumin’s… _stiff_ crotch pressed against his stomach.

As he slowly drifted awake, he noticed what an uncomfortable position he had been sleeping in, groaning weakly at the soreness of his legs. He also noticed that Xiumin felt... different. Taller, maybe? A lot taller. Actually. His eyes fluttered open in confusion, turning his head up slightly – his eyes falling on the face of a peacefully asleep Chanyeol. He stifled a jump in shock, disorientation settling in as he quickly realised “Xiumin” wasn’t Xiumin. His stirring caused Chanyeol’s eyes to fly open, just as Baekhyun stumbled off him onto the floor, shock and confusion settling in. He tried to speak as Chanyeol pushed himself up, still not entirely awake as he looked in question at Baekhyun’s face.

“I- you’re… you let me fall asleep? But-” Baekhyun eventually stuttered out, slowly trying to get up from the floor, his eyes confused, and a little disappointed. Betrayed, maybe?

“Yah…” Chanyeol yawned as he rubbed his sore neck, looking down at Baekhyun in question, “of course, I didn’t want to wake you up, baby,” Chanyeol joked, flashing a sleazy smile that in any other circumstance would make Baekhyun laugh, but for some reason made him feel more uncomfortable than anything else.

“Where is Xiumin, Chanyeol?” he asked carefully, his eyes flickering slightly as he spoke, still confused and disoriented.

Chanyeol took a questioning step forward, looking carefully at Baekhyun, not sure why he looked like felt so cornered.

“I don’t know, does it matter?” Chanyeol question remained hanging in the air for a few moments too long as Baekhyun failed to produce a good answer. Chanyeol hushed him by gently grasping his arms.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, a gentle smile pulling on his lips as he looked down at Baekhyun’s slightly disturbed face. Baekhyun glanced down, unsure of why he felt so uncomfortable around his best friend.

“I- I have to go,” he muttered, carefully slipping out of Chanyeol’s grasp, pushing himself out the kitchen, leaving Chanyeol.

Chanyeol huffed as he watched Baekhyun leave, biting his lip slightly in resentment as memories of last night resurfaced – somehow bringing a small sense of contentedness to him.

As Baekhyun eventually pushed into his room, delirious thoughts simmering in his head as his eyes panned around the room, falling on the empty bed. He took a sharp breath, running out to check the bathroom, finding nothing. Where was Xiumin?

He slumped down on the bed, burying his face in his hands as he tried to calm down. He wasn’t sure why he felt so uncomfortable. He had cuddled with Chanyeol many times before – mostly when they were drunk – but something felt… strange, this time. Probably because he had been so sure it was Xiumin he was sleeping on.

The dull buzzing of his phone caused his eyes to snap towards the end of the bed. After a few moments of fumbling through the covers, his fingers grasped around his phone. Even after turning the brightness down to the minimum, he still had to squint to make out the words on the screen.

_[Soo]_

_[3 missed calls]_

_> baekhyun, you really should come_

_> i don’t know what’s happening_

_> jongin seems really pissed_

_> holy shit_

_> xiumin captured Kris??_

_> i don’t know what’s happening, just fucking come_

 

 

 

 

 -

 

 

 

 

Xiumin had never experienced silence so suffocating in all of his life. The last time the silence in a room had weighed him down so much was when he had met with Jiyong after he failed to kill Baekhyun, but at least then he wasn’t stranded, waiting for his boss to show up – not left waiting for the impending storm.

Suho felt it too, stood against the wall of the eerily silent hallway, his eyes occasionally finding their way to Xiumin as they waited. You could almost touch the tension emanating from Xiumin’s tense figure as he stood against the opposite wall. All of them – Zitao, Suho, Taeyong and Xiumin – were waiting for Jongin to show up. None of them anticipated the eventual shitstorm that was just waiting to strike. Zitao might be, slightly, but everyone else knew it would end badly, not just for Xiumin but for everyone. The several younger members of Jongin’s ranks that were too curious to keep on doing whatever they were doing did a poor job of hiding their presence, as they patiently waited for their boss to tear Xiumin to shreds.

As Kyungsoo made his way from the floor above, no one but Suho and Taeyong even paid attention to him. He didn’t look scared, so to speak, but settling into the same nervous anticipation as the rest of them. After a quick, almost apologetic glance towards Xiumin, he just slid down the wall, his hands resting on the back of his neck.

No one was more on edge than Xiumin.

As the screeching of car tyres was heard from utside, Kyungsoo got up, to leaning against the wall in nervous anticipation as Jongin’s loud steps were heard, shooting a quick look at Xiumin before returning his eyes to the floor.

Xiumin didn’t respond.

Jongin looked more than livid as he stormed into the hallway, his breathing short as his eyes scanned the room, quickly falling on Xiumin. He knew exactly what had happened – Suho had made sure of that – and didn’t seem to be in the mood to hear excuses. Seeing him make his way over to Xiumin was like watching a predator close in on wounded prey. Xiumin stopped his attempts to look up as Jongin stood uncomfortably close, towering over him.

“Look at me!” Jongin snapped, everyone present flinching at his harsh tone of voice. Even Zitao. Xiumin stifled his flinch as he slowly lifted his head to meet the uncontained anger in Jongin’s eyes. The height difference didn’t help.

**_“What the fuck is your game??”_ **

Xiumin flinched, failing to maintain eye contact as Jongin’s spit made contact with his face as he yelled. He felt bristling frustration build in him, but knew that this wasn’t the time.

The absence of a response led him being unapologetically slammed into the wall by Jongin’s arm, his breathing broken as Jongin’s face was dangerously close to his own. He fought hard against the urge to push back as he tried to meet his boss’ eyes.

“Who gave you permission? How did you not tell _anyone_?? How did you not tell **_me_**? Are you really that fucking ungrateful??” Jongin yelled into Xiumin’s face, who struggled to breathe as Jongin’s clenched arm pressed closer to his throat.

“No,” he eventually mumbled, “I made a mistake-“

“A mistake??” Jongin practically screamed as he pulled Xiumin from the wall and pushed him into the middle of the room, red anger pusling through him. Xiumin struggled to regain his balance as he stumbled, feeling frustration build in him. “It could have been treason! Suho should have fucking shot you when-“

He paused to take a few deep breaths, gripping his hair as he tried to collect himself, as Xiumin’s heartbeat quickened, everyone in the room looking at the two. Kyungsoo looked in shock at Jongin at the words that left his mouth, even Zitao looking a little dishevled.

Xiumin had expected it, but it still stung. A lot.

“You didn’t just risk your own life, you risked our entire fucking operation by meeting with an enemy unannounced and without permission.” Jongin’s voice was as quiet and restrained as it could be as he pushed out the words through gritted teeth. Xiumin responded with a small nod, not looking at Jongin, knowing it would set him off, which would surely get him killed right now.

Suho clenched his firearm in anticipation, his eyes flickering between the two men as Jongin spoke.

The sound of screeching tyres outside brought slight pause to Jongin’s words – Suho sending a quick nod to Zitao to go and check it out, sending Zitao down the stairs. Xiumin felt frustration rise under the weight of Jongin’s eyes, before a familiar voice from the floors down below caused his heart to drop in his chest. Just as Jongin was about to open his mouth, a bewildered, angry Baekhyun had bolted up the stairs, stopping immediately at the scene in front of him, his eyes immediately falling on Xiumin, who really didn’t feel like dealing with any more bullshit at the moment.

Especially since Baekhyun was quickly followed by Chanyeol.

After a warning glance from Suho, and a cold, angry stare from Jongin, warning him to stay away, Baekhyun simply stayed put and shut his mouth, sheepily immobilised by the end of the stairs.

Jongin’s eyes quickly returned to Xiumin.

“I should have you executed for this.” He both looked and sounded disgusted at the words that left his mouth, looking Xiumin down.

Baekhyun felt a steady cocktail of anger, confusion and fear rise in him as he looked at Xiumin, hoping for some kind of response.

Xiumin felt his breathing quicken, having heard this before – memories of Jiyong glaring painfully accurately in his mind.

He swallowed, thinking through his response in his head before speaking.

“So, will you?”

Jongin took a deep breath before he spoke.

“If I didn’t need you, you wouldn’t still be breathing.”

Xiumin’s eyes flickered carefully up at Jongin, not sure how to react as Jongin refused to budge. He felt like he was dying, knowing that he couldn’t respond without setting Jongin off even more.

“Get Kris to my office,” he muttered, throwing a quick, disgusted look at Xiumin before adding, “and get him out of my sight.”

Xiumin let out a small, shaky sigh as Jongin turned around and left, shutting his eyes to ground himself. He couldn’t tell if he was trembling. Even in the pressing silence, he could hear Baekhyun’s mind brimming over with questions. And the knowledge that Chanyeol was looking at him wasn’t helping.

“Minseok?” Baekhyun started, his eyes flickering, between Suho, who was turning to leave, and back to Xiumin’s tense figure.

Xiumin failed to answer, instead just pushing past him, bumping into Chanyeol a little too harshly as he made his way down the stairs. He just wanted to breathe, to get out of here. He felt like the walls were caving in on him. As he pushed outside, he let out a breath he had been holding for a long time, relishing in the feeling of the cold breath rush through his lungs. He crouched down, trying to ground himself. He should be relieved, but he just felt drained.

He was quickly interrupted.

“Minseok, what the fuck?”

He pushed himself to stand, turning to face the younger man as he approached.

Baekhyun stopped at the ice cold look in Xiumin’s eyes. The sight was unfamiliar, and very unpleasant.

“What happened?” he asked, not sure what kind of response he was expecting to get.

Xiumin looked at him for a few, hanging seconds, before chuckling quietly as he glanced away.

“You should probably ask Chanyeol,” he looked back at a confused, angry Baekhyun.

Baekhyun stopped for a moment, having no fucking idea how to react, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me, Baekhyun.” A small part of Xiumin was screaming _what are you doing?,_ but he tried to push it away.

Baekhyun stuttered for a moment, trying to piece things together, but frustration quickly took over. “What happened with Kris?”

“We met. He tried to provoke me, and it worked. Now he’s here. I don’t see why you care,” Baekhyun winced at the ice cold look in Xiumin’s eyes, feeling nothing but hurt.

“What do you mean _“I don’t see why you care”?_ Of course I care!” he snapped, a bit too loudly, not sure how he was supposed to say. “I-I’m…” _I love you_ , a small voice in his head continued, but he promptly pushed it away, feeling nothing but hurt at the cold tone of Xiumin’s voice.

“What did I do?” he eventually pushed out, hopeless anger pressing in his chest.

Xiumin looked away briefly, biting his lip in restraint. He was growing increasingly aware that he was being an asshole, but the hurt from the night before still burned in his chest.

Baekhyun looked in anger and desperation at Xiumin’s awful, cold expression, waiting desperately for a response. “I don’t know what you did, Baekhyun,” he eventually replied, looking back at him.

Baekhyun was slowly starting to realise what might have happened, and taking a deep breath in horror. “Oh,” he replied dumbly, watching Xiumin’s awful, cold facial expression.

“Oh?” Xiumin repeated, raising his eyebrows in question.

“Look-,” Baekhyun started growing desperate, realising what Xiumin might be thinking, supressing the angry tears that were threatening to push through, “This isn’t fair, I don’t know what you saw but it’s not wh-“

“No, you don’t,” Xiumin interrupted, pulling out his phone as it buzzed, his awfully cold eyes almost making Baekhyun cry, his hands trembling as he struggled to speak, trying to put his incessant stream of thoughts into words.

“I have to go,” Xiumin stated in that god-awful cold tone of voice as he walked past Baekhyun, who stood frozen in his spot, panic rushing through him as he struggled to breathe. Baekhyun couldn’t bear to look back as Xiumin left, too dizzy and nauseous to bring himself to stop him or run after him, just helplessly slid down to the ground, failing to stop the tears of frustration from bursting through, from running aimlessly down his face.

Every part of Xiumin was screaming at him to go back, to turn around and listen, but nonetheless he pushed on, frustration building in his chest as he pushed inside the building. As he made his way upstairs, he fought firmly to push the angry tears away. He suddenly stopped on his way through the hall to Jongin’s office as his eyes fell on Kyungsoo and Chanyeol – stood against the wall, talking to each other, but suddenly stopping as Xiumin got close.

As his eyes met Chanyeol’s, the tension in the room spiked. Chanyeol’s eyes were hard to read, but just for a second, the uncertainty he was masking broke through as he met Xiumin’s icy eyes. He hardly even noticed Kyungsoo’s concerned face as he pushed past them into Jongin’s office, regret and frustration bristling under his skin as he thought back to Baekhyun one last time before he pushed into Jongin’s office.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get ready for some angst n drama yall
> 
> (also smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

_Chapter 6_

 

Baekhyun wandered around the dark, eerily silent apartment aimlessly, trying to find something, _anything_ to do in his feverish distress. He didn’t have a contract right now, and no one was home, and Baekhyun was angry and sad. The small, concentrated ball of anger, hurt, and intense frustration that had slowly, accumulatively built up in his stomach was slowly unravelling as his mind wandered. He eventually, as often the case nowerdays, turned to drinking, finding a half-full bottle of bourbon in one of the otherwise empty cupboards - and when it was empty, finding nothing but unhelpful, numb reflections in the bottom of it.

Why was Chanyeol acting like this? What had Minseok seen? Why was everything so _fucking_ unfair?

Eventually he fell into bed, silent tears slowly making their way down his face as he buried himself in his bed, finding some small comfort under the giant pile of blankets. A few weeks ago he had almost had sex with Minseok in this bed.

And now Minseok hated him.

 

 

 -

 

           

When Minseok reluctantly stepped into Baekhyun’s apartment, he couldn’t see anything in the dimly lit apartment but an empty bottle of bourbon stood on the kitchen counter. He frowned slightly, the otherwise empty, dark apartment sending an uneasy shudder up his spine.

He didn’t think either Chanyeol or Kyungsoo would be home.

But regardless, his body was tense.

By now, it had been some days from the incident at Jongin’s headquarters, and only after a lot of prodding and nagging by Suho had Minseok come to the conclusion that he couldn’t just sulk around forever without at least giving Baekhyun a chance.

He quietly pushed his shoes off, hanging his rain-damp jacket by the door as he cautiously looked around the empty apartment, running a hand thorugh his damp, curly hair. There was no sign of life, except for Baekhyun’s sneakers - scattered aimlessly by the door, indicating his presence. An inaudible sigh passed Minseok’s lips. After looking around, he reluctantly made his way to Baekhyun’s bedroom, finding his hunched figure buried deep under a pile of blankets in the dark bedroom. The only light in the room emintated from Baekhyun’s bright cellphone screen. Minseok hesitated - torn between the unrelenting, pressing urge to turn and run away and the urge to push further in as he stood frozen in the doorway. His thoughts were interrupted at the quiet, muffled sound of sniffles – Baekhyun’s sniffles – and all of a sudden his chest felt a little bit tighter. Baekhyun hadn’t noticed him yet, probably because of the headphones.

As Minseok slowly stepped into the room, he stood to lean against the wall – not feeling comfortable enough to sit down on the bedside. Eventually, he saw Baekhyun stir, having suddenly been alerted to his presence, absurptly ripping out his headphones and pushing himself up. When his eyes fell on Minseok, he bit his swollen lip. Minseok’s heart tugged at the sight of Baekhyun’s reddened eyes and damp cheeks, but he didn’t move any closer. Baekhyun eventually just slid back down under the covers, mumbling a quiet “Why are you here?” that was filled with alchohol-infused resentment.

Minseok took a deep breath before he opened his mouth, wanting to word himself more carefully than last. After a few moments he pushed out, “I never gave you a chance to explain yourself,” his voice quiet and soft, albeit restrained, remembering how Suho had schooled him over and over again to be gentle with the kid.

Baekhyun sniffled, turning away further.

“No, you didn’t,” he slurred, his ability to speak intelligibly very much reduced by the bourbon circling in his system, not sounding like much more than a petulant child. “You didn’t. You just yelled at me.”

Minseok bit his lip slightly before responding, the last words causing his stomach to dip. He contemplated whether or not he should sit down on the bed or not.

“I-“ he took a brief pause, not liking the way the words tasted in his mouth as he pushed them out, “I’m sorry. I didn’t give you a chance before getting angry.” His voice was almost too quiet for Baekhyun to hear it, but it helped in slightly muffling the storm of anger and frustration that surged Baekhyun’s chest.

Minseok eventually hedged his bets, carefully sitting down on the edge of the bed, his eyes pacing over the hunched body of the smaller man.

“You were an asshole, Minseok,” Baekhyun’s voice broke as he once again erupted into quiet sniffles, the underlying current of hurt and frustration bubbling to the surface.

“I know,” Minseok mumbled, his hand edging closer to Baekhyun’s back

“I would like to hear it,” Minseok continued.

“Hear what?” Baekhyun’s voice was drenched with alcohol infused anger, struggling to speak under the pile of sheets.

“Hear what happened with Chanyeol,” Minseok quietly clarified.

Baekhyun eventually pushed himself up to sit, still keeping his distance to Minseok. Eventually his redded eyes met Minseok’s, at least grateful that they weren’t cold, or worse, neutral, but slightly softer than last time. He inexplicably swallowed, pulling his legs closer to his chest.

“I don’t know what you saw,” he eventually croaked out, to which Minseok glanced away.

“Just tell me anyway,” he replied quietly, his voice as restrained as it could be, not wanting to describe any of it. His hand laid restlessly on the bed.

Baekhyun huffed, his brows furrowing slightly. Describing things accurately when half a bottle of spirits was circling your system was quite the challenge. But in his drunken state, he found it difficult to care.

“I think I was going to the kitchen to get some water, and then Chanyeol was there,” Baekhyun began recalling, his words stumbling on his tongue as he spoke, albeit quietly. “Chanyeol was there, and he-“ his words were interrupted by a small, teary hiccup, “-he asked me stuff, he asked me if I love you -” He paused, letting the last words hang in the air. A small, unwanted blush rose in his face when he realised who he was talking to.

Minseok’s heart clenched slightly at the words, dread and anticipation tingling in his stomach.

“- and, and I said I don’t know, cause I didn’t, and then pulled me onto the counch and hugged me,” he paused to look up at Minseok, slowly coming to the realising that he would never be able to say this with this ease if he wasn’t shitfaced.

“And then when I woke up, he was acting weird, and you were gone, and then you yelled at me,” his words stumbled quickly out of his mouth as he took a pause to catch his breath, tears threatening to emerge again.

Minseok clenched his jaw slightly, reclining to look at the drunk, distressed Baekhyun in front of him, as he slowly came to the realisation that he might have made a pretty big mistake. Guilt pressed against his chest as offered a reserved nod, the image of Chanyeol’s eyes running through his head on repeat. Then he suddenly remembered something Baekhyun said.

“What do you mean, Chanyeol was acting weird?” he asked, finally looking up at Baekhyun’s face.

“I don’t know, he…” Baekhyun whined quietly, a small blush creeping up his cheeks, “he, well he was... touchy? I-“ he blushed, not wanting to admit the real reason, which was that he had dreamt about Minseok, and that he thought it was Minseok’s stiff crotch he was sleeping against on the couch.

Minseok swallowed, looking away, trying to piece things together in his head.

“I thought he was you,” Baekhyun eventually mumbled – somehow way too loudly – “I dreamed about you, and I thought you, I mean he-“

“Shh,” Minseok hused to stop Baekhyun from rambling any more, reflexively scooting up the bed closer to Baekhyun, who fliched away slightly in distress. Despite Baekhyun’s rambling, Minseok still felt a small warm, tingling feeling creep up his spine at the thought of Baekhyun dreaming about him.

His guilt at Baekhyun’s sad, drunken state was also settling in. By assuming the worst, he had taken out something Chanyeol had done on Baekhyun. And it wasn’t right. Especially considering everything that had... happened.

He swallowed briefly, his gaze returning to Bakehyun, who was squirming in his spot. With a lot of hesistation and doubt, he lifted his hand to wipe Baekhyun’s drunken tears of his cheeks. Baekhhyun flinched, but didn’t stop him. More tears started rolling down his cheek, the feeling of Minseok’s warm touch overwhelming him.

“I’m really sorry I got mad, Baekhyun,” Minseok whispered quietly, but very sincerely, looking up at Baekhyun this time. “Do you accept my apology?” he asked carefully, the soft anticipation and guilt in his eyes evident even to Baekhyun in his drunken state.

Baekhyun stared at him for a few, dumb moments, alcohol having pulled his mind into a deep fog from which few intelligent thoughts emerged. _Of course I do,_ was the first thought that burned into his mind, fighting through the resentment and hurt that he still harbored. After a few dumbfounded moments, he simply nodded, his desperate need to be held overriding his pride. Minseok offered a small, relieved smile as he wiped Bakehyun’s tears away once again.

Without warning, Baekhyun grabbed Minseok’s shirt, pulling him against him and attempting to kiss him, his desperation to feel Minseok’s warm lips on his own again too strong. He convinced himself it was his dick taking over. Minseok, whilst surprised, didn’t budge, simply let Baekhyun into his mouth, placing a hand on the headboard to stabilise himself, the other one gently finding its place on Baekhyun’s warm neck. He probably enjoyed it a lot more than he should. Baekhyun’s drunkness definitely had a role to play in his brashness and touchiness, something Minseok tried to keep in mind before he got lost in the haze of his own desires too much. His eyes fluttered shut as he kissed back, feeling Baekhyun fold under him - feeling the tingling warmth of Baekhyun’s lips when he kissed back. Minseok didn’t want to be invasive, just let Bakehyun pick the peace. Bakehyun was desperate, licking into the older man’s warm, comforting mouth whilst trying to pull Minseok closer, desperate to feel his body pressed against his own. Minseok was eventually forced to straddle the drunk, younger man as Bakehyun pulled him closer, arousal rushing through him as he felt Baekhyun starting to grow under him. He cursed internally, knowing this wasn’t the time – Baekhyun was drunk and sad, and Minseok should be the responsible one. He didn’t want their first time to be when Bakehyun was too drunk to even talk properly. But Baekhyun tasted so fucking good when he was desperate.

Before things went too far, he reluctantly pulled away, earning a desperate whine from Bakehyun’s alcohol-flushed lips. His chest felt a little tighter as he ran a hand through Baekhyun’s messy hair, looking into the younger man’s reddened, aroused eyes. He couldn’t quite identify the surge of feelings than ruhsed through him, but he suddenly felt better than he had in days, even weeks.

As Baekhyun tried to pull Minseok back, Minseok reluctantly held him in place, placing a light, soft kiss on Bakehyun’s furrowed forehead. “You’re drunk, Baekhyun,” he mumled quietly, “it’s not right.”

Baekhyun all but whined in response, struggling to control his arms as they reached out for Minseok, relishing in the feeling of Minseok’s warm, firm body under his fingers. “Please,” he whimpered pathetically as he leaned his head against the headboard, earning a surprisingly warm chuckle from Minseok.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he cooed, every fiber of his body wanting to stay on top of the younger man as he reluctantly got off, climbing off the bed to pull off his own jeans, cursing at the realisation that he was already half-hard. As he climbed back onto the bed, Baekhyun had already buried himself under the covers, his hands fumbling for Minseok to hold. As Minseok slipped under the warm comfort of the covers, he could feel Baekhyun’s harrowed breathing slowing down as his arms wrapped protectively around him. He let out a sigh of content as he felt Baekhyun’s warm body fold under his arms, relief and exhaustion flooding his body as he slowly fell asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Shut up, Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol mumbled as his eyes fell on the pair of shoes stood by the door.

Kyungsoo had always been very different when he was drunk as compared to when he was sober. He was in the midst of a drunk, distressed ramble about something Jongin had said, but Chanyeol stopped listening as soon as he saw a stranger’s jacket hung in the hallway.

He bit his lip, his heart dropping like a stone in his chest.

He didn’t have any right to be upset. But he was. After repressing his feelings for so long, he finally got his break – and he didn’t take the chance.

Kyungsoo was making his way to the kitchen, blind to the fact that Chanyeol wasn’t as he continued his ramble to an empty audience.

As Chanyeol impudently stood outside the slightly ajar door of Baekhyun’s bedroom, the pit in his stomach felt deeper than ever. His heart was beating fast for all the wrong reasons as he struggled to breathe, his mouth unsettlingly dry. Eventually, he gave into the pull and slowly pushed the door open, every fiber of his body wanting to leave. He didn’t want to see what he knew he was inevitably about to see. But somehow, he couldn’t help himself.

As he stood sheepishly in the door-way, he couldn’t see much more than the outlines of Xiumin hugging Baekhyun from behind under the thick pile of blankets. It was very peaceful - no doubt - but Chanyeol felt everything but. He couldn’t be mad at Xiumin for something he had been refusing to confront, but it still felt awful.

He could call Jimin again, but a quick hook-up wouldn’t solve any underlying issues.

He had to get over someone who never even knew he liked him, and it hurt more than anything Chanyeol had ever felt. That part of Chanyeol - though aggressively pressed down and kept under lock and key, burned the hottest.

“Fucking _christ_ , talk about your feelings before it kills a man.”

Chanyeol spun around at the sound of Kyungsoo’s slurred words, flustered as he tried to close the door as quietly as possible.

Chanyeol caught the shorter man as he stumbled in his attempt to approach, gently dragging his friend as far away from Baekhyun’s room as possible. Even in his drunk state, Kyungsoo was of course right. Chanyeol let out a small, empty sigh as he watched Kyungsoo collapse onto the couch, feeling more alone than he’d ever felt before.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He didn’t notice Jongin until he was a just a few meters away, his gaze diverting up from his phone. Jongin looked tired as he ran his hands through his rhubarb hair, offering Suho an apologetic glance as he slumped down against the wall, sliding down to sit on the floor. Suho raised his eyebrows in question as if to offer him his seat, but Jongin waved the gesture away.

The hallway was mostly empty, especially since the younger members knew to keep a respectuful distance to their leaders.

Suho pouted slightly as he rested his chin in his hand, closing the phone with a reluctant sigh. When Jongin raised his eyebrows in silent question, Suho shook his head dismissively,

“It’s not important,” he mumbled, sliding the phone into his pocket.

“I’d like to hear it anyway.” Suho looked up at Jongin. The tone wasn’t intrusive, but rather gently curious as to what was bothering Suho. In the many years that they’d run this operation together, Suho had quickly learned the difference between Jongin as a leader and Jongin as a friend. His body relaxed slightly at the soft look on his superior’s face.

“Nothing much,” he mumbled again, “Just trying to see if Xiumin fixed things with Baekhyun.”

Jongin let out something of an amused sigh, aimlessly running his long fingers through his hair. Xiumin had been a lot of trouble, but he was still too valuable to discard. Jongin had very much hoped that he would stabilise - so to speak.

It would be better for everyone.

“What did you tell him?” Jongin softly inquired, looking up at the older man.

Suho let out a small sigh, not wishing to map out what he knew of the miststeps and drama between Baekhyun, Xiumin, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo. He also didn’t think his boss would be terribly interested, probably having heard some of it from Kyungsoo himself.

“Just that he actually had to talk to the kid, instead of just assuming what he’d done wrong,” he eventually replied, “and that no matter how sure you are of what you saw or heard, you don’t have the right to make judgements about someone else unless you listen to them first.”

Jongin huffed quietly as he looked up at Suho, something of a soft look settling in his eyes as he listened. “You always knew how to give good advice,” he stated, small grin tugging in the corners of his lips as he looked at his hyung.

Suho turned away, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Whatever,” he eventually mumbled, offering a small smile in return.

Out of curiosity, after a few, hanging moments of silence, Suho eventually asked, “How are things between you and Kyungsoo, by the way?”

Jongin let out a small chuckle before sighing deeply. “They’re not bad,” he replied, a hint of a smug smile briefly resting on his face, “But,” he took a brief pause before speaking, “It’s hard to know. Sometimes I feel like he’s getting a bit too attached for his own good.” Jongin let the words hang in the air for a few moments, to which Suho rolled his eyes, well aware of how these things usually turned out when Jongin was concerned.

“Of course he is. You shower him with attention, of course he’s going to think he’s special.”

Jongin laughed quietly, - a genuine, well-meaning laugh. “I think you’re getting salty, Suho,” he raised his eyebrows teasingly, causing Suho to roll his eyes once again, fighting the small blush that was insiting on flushing his ears. Of course he wasn’t salty.

“Well, he is taking up a lot of your time,” he mumbled reluctantly, returning to rest his chin in his hand as he looked unapprovingly at his boss.

Jongin laughed as he stood up, pulling the shorter man up with him as well, much to Suho’s discontent. “I think you’re jealous, hyung” Jongin laughed as he looked down on Suho, who rolled his eyes in knowing irritation, slipping out of his boss’ grasp.

“Well I think you’re a spoiled dick,” Suho retaliated, having grown tired of Jongin’s teasing, intending of finding Sehun.

When Jongin slapped his ass, he snapped around – irritation flashing in his eyes as Jongin laughed, even having the audacity to wink at Suho. “Of course you do.”

Suho rolled his eyes as he left Jongin to find Sehun.

As he walked, he was reminded of the real problem with Kim Jongin.

He was so touchy with everyone and everything that it became increasingly hard to distinguish between friendly affection and actual attraction.

Suho sighed in tired reservation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kyungsoo’s irritability was on peak as a younger member had the audacity to bump into him as he made his way up the stairs. The look of horror on the younglings face as he realised who he’d bumped into only served to annoy him, hurridly pushing past him and his flustered attemps at apologising. It wasn’t just that Kyungsoo was older, or that he currently sported a facial expression that exerted a vibe of ‘I’m going to kill at least four people if anyone as much as touches me’.

Kyungsoo’s “relationship” with Kim Jongin was well known, and considering Jongin’s overprotectiveness, irritating Do Kyungsoo didn’t seem like the best of ideas for someone in the lower ranks.

Kyungsoo’s pounding head and dry mouth had put him in a perpetually bad mood – the irritating nausea pooling in his stomach pulsing through his body as he finally made his way up to third floor. He couldn’t find Jongin anywhere. The only face he even remotely cared about was the one belonging to the man leaning back in one of the unreclinable chairs propped up by one of the computers, where Oh Sehun was working, the warm light of the room falling on his face. Except Sehun wasn’t working. He was talking to Suho, whose gaze immediately turned to Kyungsoo as he entered the room. Sehun also looked up briefly, throwing him a small, polite smile before returning his gaze to the computer.

“Jongin is on his way from Gongpa, he’s supposed to show up any minute,” Suho informed him without being asked, flashing a surprisingly warm smile, which was unusual where Kyungsoo was concerned. He still had the same reserved, slightly tense body that he always had, but it was still a change for the better. 

Kyungsoo stopped in his tracks, looking uncertainly on the two taller men as he realised there was no use in entering Jongin’s office. ‘Hangover Kyungsoo’ didn’t feel like waiting, but he knew he had no other choice, letting out a small, frustrated sigh. Before he could turn to leave, Suho threw an intentive glance at one of the chairs by the one he was sitting in before looking back up at Kyungsoo, giving a clear invitation to sit. Kyungsoo was well aware of the resentment – albeit, not of the personal kind – that Suho harboured for him. It was understandable, as any time Jongin decided to spend time with him, Suho’s workload as Jongin’s right hand increased. But it wasn’t like it was really Kyungsoo’s fault in the first place.

Kyungsoo hesitated for a moment, before reluctantly making his way over.

As he slumped down in the chair, he couldn’t resist burying his face in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees as he let out a frustrated sigh. His alcohol tolerance was ridiculously low, and Chanyeol hadn’t stopped him from drinking too much, making the inevitable hangover even worse. He raised his head again as he felt Suho’s questioning, slightly amused eyes on him.

“Hangover much?”

Kyungsoo just nodded in response.

Suho let out a small hum in response, the silence in the room only interrupted by Sehun’s occasional tapping on the keyboard. “What did Jongin do this time?”

Kyungsoo raised his eyebrows in questioning annoyance at the presumption in Suho’s comment, who only chuckled, his gaze returning to the younger man. “I’ve known Jongin long enough to know how annoying he can be. Trust me.”

Kyungsoo let out a small sigh, clenching his jaw slightly, as if it would cure the incessant pounding in his head. “Well, you’re not wrong,” he eventually mumbled in response, resting his chin in his hands as he leaned over his knees again.

Suho let on a smile with just a touch of sleaziness to it. “Of course I’m not.” Kyungsoo silently rolled his eyes in response, not bothering to respond. His eyes flickered momentarily to Sehun, who wasn’t looking at him. He couldn’t help but notice the way Suho’s leg comfortably brushed up on Sehun’s under the table, nor the hand that rested discretely, but possessively on Sehun’s upper thigh.

“Kyungsoo, look,” Kyungsoo’s gaze returned to Suho, whose dark eyes carried a more serious undertone than before, “You know what kind of person Jongin is, right?” Kyungsoo didn’t respond, just glanced away slightly as the pit in his stomach depeened, the sound of fingers tapping against a keyboard echoing in the room. “Despite what he tells you, he doesn’t really get attached.” Suho watched Kyungsoo’s slumped figure carefully, trying to catch Kyungsoo’s reaction. Kyungsoo resisted the urge to bite his lip.

He knew that Suho was right. He had known that from the first time Jongin even offered him a contract, but somewhere along the way he had slipped up. Despite everything, somewhere he had gotten lost in Jongin’s eyes and not found his way back. He glanced up, meeting Suho’s eyes.

The unspoken understanding between them remained unspoken as Suho’s eyes snapped towards the stairs as Jongin entered the room, followed by a bewildered Zitao. As Jongin’s eyes fell upon the two, a small, smug mile fell upon his face. As Kyungsoo’s eyes met Jongin’s his chest tightened, some kind of unspoken resentment rising in him. “Both of you, come on,” Jongin called as he strode into his office.

Suho nodded at Kyungsoo as he got up to follow Jongin into his office. Kyungsoo tensed up slightly as he felt Suho’s hand brush against the lower of his back, throwing a kind smile at Kyungsoo, who felt a confused, red sensation creep up his face. He pushed on ahead to try and hide his embarresment from Suho, feeling Sehun’s glare burn into his back as he entered Jongin’s office.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The warm light seeping in from the windows was what eventually woke Baekhyun up. His eyelashes fluttered lazily against his cheeks as he relished in the warm comfort of the pile of covers that he was buried under, slightly muffling the incessant pounding of his head. As he quickly realised that he wasn’t alone – as he felt the body heat of someone else’s exposed chest pressed against his back, feeling the arm that was snaked around his waist – he tensed up. He dind’t immediately remember who it was, wondering for a moment if he’d gotten drunk enough to hook up with some stranger. He laid there for several moments in tense apprehension, before he recognised the tattoo on the wrist of the other man.

_Oh._

His chest tightened. Slowly but surely, memories of last night resurfaced in his mind. He had gotten drunk, and Minseok had showed up. He also remembered that Minseok had apologised, but the events surrounding that were blurry. Except for the kiss – the kiss stood out clearly - the memory of the sensation of Minseok’s warm, comforting lips against his own causing a warm, tingling sensation to pool in his stomach.

For several moments, Baekhyun did nothing else but focus on the feeling Minseok’s warm chest rise and fall peacefully against his back, mapping out every point of contact his body had with the man that was hugging him from behind: The fingers brushing against his stomach, the thigh edging against his own - the warm, tickling feeling of Minseok’s slow breathing against his neck from his parted lips. Baekhyun closed his eyes, the warm feeling pooling in his stomach convincing him that this wasn’t so bad after all. 

As he blindly fumbled for his phone that was nestled somewhere in the covers, Minseok eventually stirred, his eyes fluttering open with a small yawn. The way his grip around Baekhyun’s waist tightened slightly when he stirred caused a shiver to run through Baekhyun’s body, who freezed in his efforts. “Good morning,” Minseok mumbled quietly as he nuzzled his face deeper into Baekhyun’s neck, his lips grazing over Baekhyun’s skin as he pressed a light kiss on his neck, causing the hair on Baekhyun’s arms to rise. Baekhyun’s eyes flickered for a moment, still a little bit confused. Eventually, Minseok pushed himself up to his side, the bed caving a little. Baekhyun looked up, turning cautiously. He felt a blush creep up his face as Minseok’s soft, sly eyes rested on his, panning briefly over his exposed chest.

“How are you feeling?” Minseok asked softly, running his fingers through Baekhyun’s messy hair as he smiled – a small, content smile on his lips as he saw Baekhyun blush.

“A little hungover,” Baekhyun admitted quietly, his eyes finding a place on Minseok’s exposed chest. _A little sexually frustrated,_ he couldn’t stop himself from thinking, the warm, dark look in Minseok’s eyes sending a small shudder of arousal through his body. Minseok smiled, almost apologetically, as if Baekhyun’s state was somehow his fault.

It kind of was, but still.

Minseok chuckled quietly at Baekhyun’s dumstruck face, placing a warm kiss on his brows. Baekhyun’s heart may have fluttered. He couldn’t help but trace his fingers ligtly over Minseok’s chest, relishing in the feeling of Minseok’s body under his fingertips.

Minseok looked down at Baekhyun’s face, uncertain at what exactly Baekhyun wanted, and where the limits actually were now – anticipation and doubt filling him as he saw the way Baekhyun’s eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips. After an uncertain moment or two, he cautiously lowered his lips to Baekhyun’s, nervous to see if Baekhyun would pull away.

Relief rushed over him in waves as Baekhyun’s lips met his own, softly kissing him back. Their lips were cautious and gentle, feeling out each other’s motives and intentions, trying to find common ground as their lips brushed over each other. Minseok’s eyes fluttered to a close, feeling Baekhyun’s back arch up slightly to meet him as he pushed himself up, his thigh resting comfortably between Baekhyun’s, as his hand slowly but surely traced up Baekhyun’s neck.

Baekhyun’s hand traced airily over the muscles on Minseok’s back as they found their place in Minseok’s tousled hair, warm feelings pulsing through his chest, and small shudders of arousal rushing through him as he picked up his pace, running his tongue on Minseok’s lower lip, who immediately let him in - a deep, appreciative noise leaving the older man’s mouth.

Minseok cursed as he felt himself grow hard, wondering if this constituted stepping over the line. He didn’t want to hurt Baekhyun again. He dind’t want to have to reconcile with the beaten, hurt, and red look in Baekhyun’s eyes that he’d seen yesterday ever again. He didn’t have time to think as Baekhyun’s thigh brushed up on his bulge, feeling the vibrations from the almost silent moan that left the younger man’s mouth as he was practically pulled down over Baekhyun.

Minseok broke the kiss, his breath airy as he looked down on the yonger man, running a hand through his hair as Bakehyun looked up on him, a small look of confusion and arousal floating in his eyes.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked gently, an air of concern in his voice as he raised his eyebrows slightly, his fingers running through the younger man’s hair.

Baekhyun looked up on him for a moment or two, his eyes filled with arousal and something else he wasn’t sure he could decipher. “Yes, hyung.”

Minseok felt his insides turn in heat at the way the words left Baekhyun’s parted lips as Baekhyun pulled him down to his mouth again. Baekhyun’s hands pulled Minseok down on top of him, earning a surprised noise from the older man. Soon, Minseok’s will broke as arousal rushed over him in waves, as he traced his hands up Baekhyun’s arms, deflty but gently pushing them up over Baekhyun’s head. Baekhyun failed to supress the small moan that left him as Minseok pinned his hands down, anticipation and arousal rushing through him in waves as he licked into Minseok’s mouth. Minseok had learned what made Baekhyun tick, and intended on using it. Minseok smiled into Baekhyun’s mouth as he pushed his thigh between Baekhyun’s, pushing his legs wide apart, shaky moan leaving Baekhyun’s lips as Minseok grinded his thigh against him.

Slowly but surely, Baekhyun’s clothes piled up on the floor. Minseok was being frustratingly slow, slowly reducing Baekhyun to a trembling mess underneath him, who was desperately trying to tug Minseok’s boxer briefs down. Minseok tutted at Baekhyun’s efforts, his lips tracing over Baekhyun’s warm, trembling body, slowly but surely working his way down to Baekhyun’s hips. Baekhyun failed to silence his whiney moan as Minseok’s teeth teasingly tugged at the edge of his boxer-briefs, his hand distractedly trying to tug at Minseok’s messy, fluffed hair. He almost cried in relief as Minseok removed his boxerbriefs down in one tug, exposing Baekhyun’s cock which was already hard, causing a small, smug smile to pull at Minseok’s lips.

Baekhyun’s hips jerked forward as Minseok’s warm breath brushed over his exposed cock, a shaky moan leaving his lips as Minseok’s tongue ran up his shaft, his moany breath hitching as Minseok took him into his mouth. He desperately tried to stop himself from thrusting up into Minseok’s warm mouth, his skin tingling with heat as Minseok’s hands ran over hips, taking a soft grip as his mouth and tongue worked Baekhyun to full hardness. Baekhyun desperately tried to spread his legs further apart, his heels digging into the matress and his head falling back with a breathy moan when Minseok’s tongue ran over his cock. Tension was pooling in his abdomen as he longed for Minseok to fuck him raw.

Bakehyun’s throaty moans only served to encourage Minseok, who took more and more of Baekhyun into his mouth, relishing in every small sound that left Baekhyun’s mouth. As his own self-restraint was starting to break, he proceeded to push Baekhyun’s leg up, making his entrance clear for the taking. He paused for a moment, considering whether to get up and get the lube on the other side of the bed, an impulse to which he thought _fuck it,_ and pulled his mouth from Bakehyun’s leaking cock, earning a whine from Baekhyun’s throat.

As Minseok pushed Baekhyun’s leg up further, lowering his mouth to Baekhyun’s hole, Baekhyun stuttered out Minseok’s name, “M-Minseok what are y-“ the rest of his words got stuck in his throat as Minseok’s tongue ran over his entrance, sending a shudder through the younger man’s body. Baekhyun gripped the sheets to have something to hold onto as Minseok moulded him into a trembling mess under his tongue. As Minseok’s finger slowly pushed into him, his tongue still running over his entrance, Baekhyun’s head fell back with a moan as waves of arousal and overwhelming pleasure rushed over him, causing his head to spin. As Minseok’s finger moved in and out of him, Baekhyun’s whiney moans hitched, desperately wanting Minseok to hurry up and fuck him already. But Minseok took his sweet time. At the second finger, Baekhyun winced slightly as Minseok’s unlubed fingers thrust into him. Minseok paused as he noticed Baekhyun involuntatily clenching around him, a breathy, hitched moan escaping Baekhyun’s mouth as Minseok climbed up to lean over him, placing gentle kisses on Baekhyun’s neck. Moments later, he pulled out to climb over the wide bed, fumbling through the drawers for the lube. He wanted Baekhyun to be as comfortable and ready as possible. A trembling gasp escaped Baekhyun’s lips as Minseok climbed on top of him again, desperately trying to kiss the man on top of him as Minseok flicked the cap open, pouring a generous amount of lube on his fingers. Minseok stayed on top of Bakehyun as his fingers pushed into Baekhyun again, intense arousal rushing over him as Baekhyun’s breath got caught in his throat. Baekhyun’s hips jolted at the sensation of the cold lube, throwing his head back in pleasure back as Minseok stretched him. At three fingers, Baekhyun was nothing more than a trembling mess, pathetic and submissive sounds escaping his lips at every thurst.

As much as Minseok just wanted to bury himself in Baekhyun, he wanted Baekhyun to feel as comfortable as possible during their first time, and took his sweet time stretching the man underneath him, placing comforting kisses on Baekhyun’s exposed neck to distract from the discomfort. Baekhyun almost wanted to cry in pleasure as Minseok’s fingers finally hit his prostate, intense pleasure shooting up his spine as Minseok’s fingers hit it again and again. _“Fuck,”_ Minseok moaned as he watched Baekhyun’s pleasure-filled expressions. Baekhyun was painfully hard, and wanted nothing more than for Minseok to just bury himself in him. His pleas became more and more incomprehensible as Minseok added another finger, his heels digging into the bed to try and meet Minseok’s thrusts, almost wanting to fuck Minseok’s hand itself.

“Min- Minseok, _please,”_ Baekhyun cried out, his fingers running over the muscles in Minseok’s back, even digging in in sudden pleasure as Minseok thrust harder. Minseok finally pulled out, making Baekhyun wince as he clenched around nothing, but anticipation rushing over him as Minseok pulled his boxer briefs off, the cap opening with a snap as Minseok slicked himself up, positioning himself by Baekhyun’s entrance. As he leaned over Baekhyun, he proceeded to once again pin Baekhyun’s wrists above his head, earning a trembling, frustrated moan from the younger man.

“Brace yourself, baby,” Minseok whispered into Baekhyun’s neck as he slowly pushed inside. Baekhyun’s head fell back, his breath hitching in intense pleasure as Minseok’s cock pushed inside of him. Minseok lifted up his right leg to position himself to be able to thrust in the future as he slowly pushed inside, feeling the intensified breathing of the man under him. Minseok cursed, realising he was going to come without doing anything unless he started moving soon. Baekhyun desperately tried to strain against Minseok’s grip as Minseok’s hips met his thighs, panting hard as Minseok littered him with breathy kisses, mumbling a soft _“you’re doing so well,”_ and _“you look so good right now”_ into his ear, sending a shudder of arousal through his body. “Please, fuck me Minseok, please-“Baekhyun let out in a whiny moan, all thoughs of inhibition out the window as Minseok filled him up.

Minseok got the memo, and slowly started to move, carefully at first as to not cause unnecessary discomfort, but finding it incredibly hard to not just fuck Bakehyun raw. Baekhyun failed to stop the loud moan that left his mouth as Minseok started to fuck into him, slowly picking up his pace of his thrusts, causing Baekhyun’s back to arch in pleasure. Baekhyun tried to meet the older man’s thrust by digging in his heel further, his head falling back in a pleasured cry as Minseok’s cock hit his prostate repeatedly. Minseok’s name left Baekhyun’s lips in hiccupped moans until Minseok all but slammed into him, all self-restraint gone as all he could think of was how incredibly good it felt to bury himself in Baekhyun. Baekhyun’s breath hitched in pleasure, relishing at the feeling of Minseok’s body against his own as tension started building in his abdomen. “M- Minseok, I’m-,” _thrust_ “I’m so close-“ Minseok swallowed down the rest of his words with a hungry kiss, before letting go of his grip on Baekhyun’s hands.

“You’re so beautiful,” Minseok’s breathy voice was deep as his hand distractedly found Baekhyun’s hard member, which brushed teasingly against his abdomen at every thrust,

“Come for me, Buyn Bakehyun,” he breathed, pumping Baekhyun’s cock in tempo with his thrusts. Baekhyun’s cried out as his head fell back in pleasure, all sound suddenly muffled, his heartbeat echoing in his head as came in thick white spurts on himself and Minseok’s chest. Minseok quickly let go, not wasting any time - both hands taking a firm grip on Baekhyun’s hips as he chased his own release, the tension in his abdomen tumbling over the edge as he came hard in the man beneath him, fucking him through his own orgasm, sending a shudder of overstimulation through Baekhyun’s body.

He fell down on top of Bakehyun, breathing deeply as he felt reality return to him. Baekhyun’s eyes fluttered shut, all energy having left him, causing a small, breathy chuckle to escape from Minseok’s throat,

“Good morning,” Baekhyun mumbled softly and hoarsly - a small, soft smile pulling on the corners of his lips as he looked up at the man above him. Minseok’s chest tightenend slightly, placing a soft kiss on Bakehyun’s lips before gently slipping out, slumping down on the bed with a sigh.

They both lay there for a few moments, Minseok gently pulling Baekhyun towards him in a messy, sticky embrace. He couldn’t help his smile as he rested his chin on top of Baekhyun’s messy, slightly sweaty hair, nor the warm feeling that was making his chest tight.

Baekhyun smiled softly against Minseok’s skin, his breathing coming to a still under Minseok’s body heat. He wasn’t sure if it was the post-orgasm bliss that made his chest feel so tight, but if not that, he wasn’t sure. He pushed the thought aside as Minseok placed a gentle kiss in his messy hair.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ʕ´•ᴥ•`ʔ


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains a what could be called a rape scene. It's not intended to be pretty, just upsetting, so proceed with caution ❤ I do not intend to fetishize sexual assault, and this scene is supposed to be distressing.  
> That being said, I hope you enjoy ❤ ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

_Chapter 7_

 

_> I’ll pay double, think about it_

 

 

Chanyeol closed his phone with a sigh, slipping it into his pocket and peering passively over the faces in the room, fidgeting with the fold on his dress shirt distraughtedly. Dinner parties were the absolute worst, especially if you were hungover.

He had learned a lot in his short period of working a serving job for his uncle, and he blended in well with the sea of tailored suits and false pretenses. Officially he was a waiter, but his sights were set on only one of the guests – a CEO of some law-firm, but more importantly a competitor to his contractor. A very typical contract, and not the most difficult one. All he had to do was be there whenever Mr. Kim was thirsty, play his cards right, and not fuck up somewhere along the way. Just a sprinkle of tetrodotoxin, small enough to go unnoticed, large enough to get the job done. He smiled a polite smile as he was dismissed, that one champagne flute disappearing from his tray into _just_ the right hands. By the time he had made his way to the other side of the room, the flutes on his tray were significantly fewer than when he’d started. But the one that mattered was in the right hands. And that was all that mattered. As he discretedly slipped into the kitchen and closed the door, he quickly placed the tray down with a clatter, throwing his rented suit jacket off in one swift motion and moving to pick up the small bag and the jacket he had stored under the kitchen sink. He knew he had a small window when the kitchen would be empty, and in that time he had to get out before anyone noticed something was wrong.

As he slipped out of backdoor of the hotel, he let out a breath he had been holding for a long time, throwing on his coat and flinging the bag over his shoulder, the rented suit jacket still in his grip. The rain was just starting to fall as he disappeared into the busy street of people, pulling his mask up and flicking his hood up to shield his hair from the rain as he walked, continuously looking back to make sure he wasn’t followed. He wasn’t. The bright light of the phone illuminated his face as he pulled it up, to once again read the text that he hadn’t yet swiped away.

_“I’ll pay double.”_

Chanyeol hesitated. 20,000 dollars extra was _a lot_ of money. He bit his lip slightly, the prospect weighing heavy in his chest. He wasn’t some whore, he thought to himself. But for 20,000 dollars, wasn’t everything on the table? With 20,000 dollars extra, he’d have a lot of leeway. Sure, Jongin’s cash for Baekhyun’s contract was making life easier for now, but it wouldn’t last forever.

Chanyeol shut his phone with a heavy sigh. Would he really sink this low just for some extra money?

 

 

The question had answered itself as Chanyeol found himself reluctantly tapping his knuckles at the door of one of the most expensive penthouse-apartments in central Seoul. The prospect weighed heavy in his chest as he fidgeted with the end of his coat nervously, wanting nothing more than to go just home and sleep. As he heard the steps approach the door, he shut his eyes momentarily, bracing himself for… something.

“Mr Park, I’m glad,” is what greeted him, a sleazy smile on the lips of the man in front of him. Chanyeol pushed forth a polite smile as he stepped inside the dimly lit apartment, moving to take off his jacket, but finding the creeping hands of the older man already sliding the coat down his arms.

“Everything went well, I presume,” the voice behind him hummed.

“Everything went perfectly,” Chanyeol replied, stifling the shudder that ran through his body at the touch up his back as he pushed his dress shoes off.

“That’s why I hire you, Chanyeol,” the man walked past him into the spacious living room, over to the dining table situated in by the glass walls. Chanyeol followed cautiously, starting to regret his decision as soon as the man turned around, the smile that pulled on his lips making Chanyeol slightly nauseous. He masked his unwillingness and nervousness with a smile, cautiously making his way over, uncertain of what exactly was expected of him.

He wasn’t left wondering for long, as he was pulled brashly into what could be described as a kiss. Chanyeol’s breath stuttered as he tried to regian his balance, nervously placing his hands on the other man’s shoulders. The fact that the other man must be twice as old hit Chanyeol as he licked into Chanyeol’s mouth, a bitter, alcohol-infused taste settling in his mouth. His eyes closed as he tried to act enthusiastic, kissing back as much as he could muster. _“20,000 dollars”._ He shuddered as the man’s hand met his ass, wincing slightly in pain as he groped aggressively. He desperately wanted to leave, but it was way too late for that now. The man chuckled quietly into Chanyeol’s mouth, pulling away abruptly. Chanyeol let out a supressed noise of surprise and pain as he was forcefully pushed down to his knees, his face forced to the same height as the man’s crotch. He looked up in disdain and uncertainty, feeling a pit in his stomach the man looked down at him.

“Make it worth my 20,000, kitten.”

Chanyeol’s insides turned at the words, taking a short breath to calm his nerves, his hands trembling slightly in moving up to unbuckle the man’s belt, feeling the condescending, sleazy eyes of the man burn into him all the while. He tried to calm himself as he unzipped the man’s pants, pulling them down slightly. He looked up one last time, before making his tongue run over the man’s exposed member. _“20,000”_ ran through his head on a loop as his tongue worked, his hands staking a nervous grip on the man’s thighs. As he finally took in the man’s member into his mouth, he earned a satisfied groan from above. He let out a small noise of surprise as the man took a firm grip in his hair, pulling his mouth down on his dick. Chanyeol struggled not to choke, his grip on the man’s thighs tightening as he fought his urge to throw up as the man forced his head down on his member. Tears started collecting in his eyes as he focused on trying to breathe, all while he was pushed up and down the man’s member, the grip in his hair painful and aggressive.

“That’s right, Chanyeol,” the man hummed over the choking sounds of the man on his knees beneath him, “this should teach you not to try and scam me again.” Chanyeol’s grip tighetened in mild panic at the words that left the man’s mouth whilst he tried to breathe. _No... No, no, no, this can’t be real-_ After a few, painful moments, he was pulled off, allowing him to collect his breath, coughing up saliva all the while. He wasn’t left alone for long as he was forcefully dragged up and slammed down hard face first on the dining table. He let out a pained groan as he felt intense pain rush from his nose, blood running down to his mouth as his hands were pinned behind his back, the man removing his belt to forcefully tie his wrists with a snap. _Shit, shit, shit-_ ran through his head as his pants and underwear were aggressively pulled down to his knees, the man forcefully pushing his legs apart. Chanyeol struggled not to sob, biting his lip in pain and panic as the man lowered his hand to Chanyeol’s face. “Spit.” Chanyeol soon obeyed, spit mixing with blood in the man’s hand, which seemingly pleased the man, as he let out a satisfied groan at the sight. Chanyeol’s breath hitched in pain and panic as the man’s finger thrust into him, causing him to involuntarily clench. The firming grip on his wrists forced him to unclench, pain rushing through his body as the man’s finger thrust into him. He struggled not to sob at the second finger, closing his eyes to try and distract from the pain.

“This really is how you look best, Park Chanyeol. This is your punishment for trying to scam me. Do you understand?” Chanyeol let out a small breath in horror and pain as the man spread him open, the words ringing in his ears. Panic rose through his body as the man’s fingers retracted, and something triple their size started pushing into him. He failed to stifle the pained, panicked cry that left him as the man thrust into him, unlubed, with no consideration of how painful it was for Chanyeol. It only served to encourage him as he let out a satisfied groan at Chanyeol’s pained and panicked facial expression, pushing Chanyeol’s face further into the table with his hand as he started to move. Chanyeol closed his eyes, desperately trying to distract himself from the pain, shame and panic that was rushing through him, but it was in vain. Soon, the older man let go of his hair and wrists to take a firm, painful grip on his hips, proceeding to slam into him repeatedly. Chanyeol failed to stifle the cry that left him at the immense pain, earning a chuckle from the man above him, who was only encouraged to slam into him harder, his fingers firmly digging into Chanyeol’s hips. Chanyeol could feel bruises forming on his skin. Shame and pain rushed through him in waves as he tried to meet the aggressive thrusts into him, desperately wishing for all of this to be over. The man gripped Chanyeol’s wrist with one hand again, his thrusts increasing in pace. Soon, his thrusts lost rhythm and increased in strength as he tipped over the edge, spilling into Chanyeol. A shaky breath left Chanyeol’s clenched jaw, the pain and shame rushing over him as he felt the warm liquid inside of him.

He winced as the man pulled out, soon hearing the zip of the man’s pants behind him. His wirsts were unbound a few moments later. He failed to supress the shiver of shame that rused through him as he felt the older man’s cum run down his leg, along with his dignity.  The man’s heavy breathing filled the suffocating silence as Chanyeol winced in standing up, both from the pain and from feeling the cum running down his leg. He flinched as a small towel was thrown in his face, catching it last second.

“I’m sure you’ll find your way out, Mr. Park,” the man said dismissively, adjusting his cufflinks as if nothing had even happened. Chanyeol let out a shaky breath, his trembling hands grasping the towel in his hands, not looking up. He offered a small, curt nod, not looking up as the man left the room.

His hands were trembling as he wiped his leg dry, pulling up his pants in defeat, just desperately wanting to dissapear. Every small movement hurt immensively. He winced in pain as he pulled on his shoes, quickly grabbing his coat as he slipped out the door, which is when the desperate tears started coming, threatening to mix with the not yet dried blood on his face. He felt utterly defeated, feeling nothing but intense regret and shame pooling in his stomach, the pain from every step he took shooting up his spine as he approached his elevator. He barely noticed the feeling of the dull buzz of the phone in his pocket, but he didn’t have the composure to look at it.

Everything around him was blurred, and all he could do was stare at the wall of the elevator in front of him, reality slowly slipping away from him. He quickly wiped his nose from blood before the elevator doors opened with a ping, quickly slipping past the people that were stepping on, not making eye contact with anyone as he pulled his mask up to hide his bloodied face. The feeling of shame and despair that was pooling in his stomach filled all corners of his mind.

His mind was only half aware as he made his way home, only finding him again as he stood outside the door to their apartment, suddenly hesitant. He was trembling slightly from the cold, but that wasn’t why his hand was hesitating. Eventually, he pushed the handle of the door down.

 

-

 

Baekhyun’s eyes snapped up from his phone as he heard the door open. When he saw Chanyeol, he jumped up from the couch, a delighted smile on his face. His smile was immediately erased from his face as he saw Chanyeol’s attempts to hide his face.

“Chanyeol?” Baekhyun’s eyes fell on the blood on Chanyeol’s dress shirt, immediately prying Chanyeol’s hands away from his face. “Were you in a fight?”

As soon as his eyes met Chanyeol’s, he stopped, his eyes also falling on his bloodied and burised nose, his words stuck in his throat.

“It’s fine, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol mumbled, his voice hoarser and thinner than he expected it to be, as he carefully slipped his shoes off, failing to hide his wince and slight limp as he walked past Baekhyun to the kitchen, towards the liquor cabinet.

“What the fuck happened, Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol stopped, biting his lip as he tried to hold back the tears. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do or say. He looked away as Baekhyun stepped in front of him, taking a hold on his arms, making Chanyeol wince slightly from having his wrists pinned down earlier. He couldn’t bear to meet the eyes of Baekhyun - the pit in his stomach deepening – instead, he just stared at the floor, failing to stop the frustrated tears from rising in his eyes. When his phone buzzed again, he quickly pulled it up, desperate to avoid answering the endless questions that filled Baekhyun’s stare. As his eyes met the barrage of texts and bank notifications that were illuminating his phone, he failed to hold back from just bursting into tears, bringing his hands to his face as tears started to fall, mixing with the dried blood on his face.

Baekhyun’s heart fell in his chest as he watched Chanyeol break down, gently pulling him into an embrace, feeling the trembling body of his best friend under his arms. He took a deep breath, before gently dragging a sobbing, limping Chanyeol to his bedroom, pulling him onto the bed to properly hug him. His mind was left wondering what had happened as he gently ran his hands through Chanyeol’s surprisingly messy hair, Chanyeol’s moist tears seeping into his sweatshirt. Chanyeol had always been great at masking his emotional sensitivity until it was too late, which is when the dams broke down and all hell broke loose. He looked up as he saw Minseok’s face in the doorway, raising his eyebrows in concern. Baekhyun nodded, his gaze lingering for a few moments as Minseok made his way to the kitchen.

As he saw the reddened, bruised marks on Chanyeol’s wrists when Chanyeol pulled his hands to his face, a small, concerned frown crowned his face. “Chanyeol, what happened to you?” Chanyeol just responded by sobbing more, trying to bury himself under the body heat of his best friend.

After a few, trembling minutes, he just pulled out his phone, unlocking it –a real struggle with his tear-damp fingers - , and handed it to Baekhyun, who took it, narrowing his eyes to make out the words on the bright screen. As he progressed further down the texts his grip on the phone tightened, anger building slowly in his chest as he strated to realise what might have happened to his best friend.

He closed the phone with a heavy sigh, his jaws clenched as he wrapped his arms around Chanyeol’s cold, trembling body. “I’ll fucking kill him,” he whispered, more to himself than to Chanyeol, who didn’t have the energy to respond. Baekhyun looked up as Minseok cautiously entered, a small, sad smile pulling on his lips as Minseok placed the steaming cup of hot cocoa – Chanyeol’s favourite drink - on the bedside table. Minseok’s mind was brimming with questions, but he chose to remain quiet, simply turning to leave for the bathroom to get some wet towels. But before he could leave, he stifled a jump as Chanyeol’s hand reached for his arm over Baekhyun, mumbling an almost unintelligible: _“please stay,”_

Minseok raised his eyebrows in shocked dismay. Chanyeol asking _him_ to stay? This must surely be some kind of mixup. A cruel joke, maybe. Baekhyun was equally surprised, looking down hesitantly, mumbling a quiet but cautious, “Chanyeol, you know that’s not Soo right?”

He glanced up at Minseok in disbelief and shock as he felt Chanyeol nod against his neck, his eyes shining with uncertainty and dismay. Minseok let out a small breath, not sure of what to make of all of this. His eyes flickered between Bakehyun and Chanyeol for a moment, before cautiously asking if he could at least get some towels, to which he got a reluctant nod from Chanyeol. Baekhyun huffed in disbelief as he hugged his best friend, wondering if this was some bizarre practical joke that was being played on his behalf. But Chanyeol was apparently not joking, as he stayed true to his words when Minseok returned, cautiously turning over when Minseok asked him to. Chanyeol let Minseok wipe his face from blood, all while keeping his firm grip on Baekhyun. As Minseok turned to leave, Chanyeol muttered a quiet “ _please”_ into Baekhyun’s chest. Minseok’s eyes briefly met Baekhyun’s, before he reluctantly climbed into bed with the both of them, turning to lie down behind the tall, trembling body of the man who had previously fixated all of his hate on him, but was now for some reason asking for his presence.

Baekhyun looked over Chanyeol’s head at Minseok in utter disbelief over the quiet sobs of the man under his arms.

All three of them in the same bed, at Chanyeol’s request. Definitely the most absurd thing to happen to him all week.

Minseok laid sheepishly behind Chanyeol’s back, having lost all sense of what his role in all of this was supposed to be. The endless list of questions in his mind got longer as Chanyeol fumbled behind him, pulling Minseok’s arms over him, pulling Minseok to hug him from behind. Minseok didn’t fight against it too much, just settled in the absurdity of the situation, trying to overcome the intense resentment that pressed in his chest as he hugged the man who had tried to steal Baekhyun from him, and seemingly harboured intense hatred for him. Seemingly. Eventually, he relaxed slightly, resorting to gently massaging Chanhyeol’s arm, looking up at Baekhyun’s eyes with a mix of contradicting emotions swimming in his head as he tried to make sense of everything.

Baekhyun swallowed slightly, the arm around Chanyeol’s back now pressed against Minseok’s chest too, which only served to make his head spin.

“Chanyeol, what did you do?” Baekhyun asked quietly, his hands still running through Chanyeol’s damp hair as if everything was normal again. After a few more moments of quiet hiccupped sobs, Chanyeol slowly mustered the courage to speak. “I-,” he took a pause to collect his breath, “I thought it was just a regular offer,” he mumbled, almost too quietly for Baekhyun to hear, “but he-“ he paused to take a sharp breath “-he said he was punishing me for scamming him.”

Baekhyun took a deep breath, rage building in his chest as he pulled Chanyeol closer to comfort his trembling, sobbing figure. After a few, quiet moments, Baekhyun opened his mouth again. “How much?” Chanyeol initially didn’t respond, a cloud of shame clouding his vision as he felt the pulsing pain from his ass shoot up his spine. “20,000”, he eventually whispered, biting his trembling lip in shame and resentment, finding comfort in the body heat from both Baekhyun and Minseok, who was gently massaging his upper arm in lack of sense of what else to do. Baekhyun shut his eyes briefly, rage pressing in his chest. “You’re worth more than 20,000 dollars, Chanyeol. You didn’t have to do this.”

Chanyeol took a sharp breath, resisting the urge to hide his face in his trembling hands, simply felt the tears run down his cheeks as he struggled to breathe through his weeping. The feeling of shame was still there, pooling in his stomach as he pulled his legs further up, desperately trying to focus on the feeling of Baekhyun’s chest against his head and his arms around him, and Minseok’s hand gently running over his shoulder. With Baekhyun’s words ringing in his ears, he started to come to grips with the realisiation that had been sitting in the back of his mind from the moment he stepped foot in his contractor’s apartment: This hadn’t been worth it. But it was too late for second thoughts now. Inexplicably, Minseok’s presence and body heat only served to comfort him. For now, he didn’t have the energy to answer why that was the case, just settled in what small comfort he could find.

Minseok was reluctant to meet Baekhyun’s eyes, instead just shut his eyes, letting a small sigh slip from his lips as he kept gently massaging Chanyeol’s wide, trembling shoulder with his right hand. Behind the pressing resentment that sat in his chest, there was a small feeling of contentedness, but for what he wasn’t sure. What had happened to Chanyeol made his chest feel a little tighter, despite everything that had happened between the two of them. And despite the absurdity of the three of them lying in the same bed, Minseok felt ok, having simply accepted the reality of it all. As his eyes glanced up to Baekhyun, a small, gentle smile pulled on his lips, his chest a little lighter at how much Baekhyun really cared about Chanyeol. It was just that – endearing, and it only served to deepen his feelings for Baekhyun. But he couldn’t hide from the small, pressing jealousy that was still there.

Chanyeol winced as pain shot up his spine at a slight adjustment, causing Baekhyun to place a soft kiss in his tousled hair. His heart might have soared. He may have tried to ignore it. “You need alcohol, Yeollie,” Baekhyun attempted to joke, only causing a hiccupped sob to escape from Chanyeol’s lips. He only nodded slightly, causing Baekhyun to sigh slightly in return, shutting his eyes briefly. He had taken a few contracts from Chanyeol’s contractor, and had occasionally gotten hints of his predatory habits. But being offered 20,000 dollars for a sugar-daddy-esque favour was very different.

The fact that Chanyeol had agreed to it broke his heart.

The hot chocolate gradually grew cold as Baekhyun kept Chanyeol in his embrace, mumbling comforting words into his ear, Minseok offering what support he could all the while. Time stood still as they lay there, but after a considerable amount of time Chanyeol just passed out from exhaustion, never having left Baekhyun’s comforting embrace. Baekhyun looked sleepy as well, so eventually, Minseok just carefully slipped from the bed, slowly getting up to leave the two undisturbed.

It had been a strange day.

 

 

 

\----

 

 

 

Kyungsoo cursed as he heard loud voices echo from the stairs above, scrambling to pack up his L26, his hands fumbling in their effort to pick up the sniper bag. As soon as he jumped up, he heard the echo of footsteps from the stairs, and quickly slipped behind the door, trying to still his adrenaline fuelled breathing as he took a fumbling grip on the knife in his belt. As soon as the first figure rushed into the room, he had her, pulling her back by the throat and kneeing her hard in the back, sending her to fall back first to the floor. A harsh, booted heel to the face incapacitated her, and Kyungsoo quickly spun around, pushing up the hand of the other man before he pulled the trigger, the loud ringing of the bullet hitting the concrete roof ringing in his ears. But before he could act the man took his legs out from under him, sending him back first to the hard concrete floor, falling against his sniper bag on his side. He gasped as the air was pushed out of him, his head spinning in pain as he with his remaining composure lunged up for the man with the knife in his hand, burying it in the man’s thigh. The man fell to the floor, his blood-curling scream echoing through the empty building as Kyungsoo struggled to regain his balance, pain rushing from the back of his head and back as he tried to get up. He groaned as he pushed himself up, wincing at the blood-curling sounds that left the man as he retrieved his knife with a jolted grab, giving it a quick wipe on his shirt before he proceeded his quick descent down the stairs, hurrying to get away before the others showed up.

 

About an hour later, he was already back at headquarters. He cursed the pulsing pain in the back of his head as he made his way up the dimly lit stairs, vertigo kicking in in small beats. One small delay, and the contract had almost failed. He really had to get it together. Kyungsoo had become so used to being at headquarters by now - the questioning looks from the young crew members slowly shifting to respectful ones, the friendly attitude of the administration members feeling less threatening and more genuine, that Kyungsoo had slowly started feeling a strange sense of familiarity whever he was here. But it never truly felt like home. Home was always going to be Baekhyun and Chanyeol. Something was always a little bit off with the whole place, the façade of the whole operation a little too composed for Kyungsoo to accept it at face value. Maybe it was because of his relationship with Jongin, but he suspected something deeper.

He grunted as finally reached to the third floor, slightly out of breath from the aching pain shooting from both his head and up his back. There were surprisingly few people in the hallway, the few that were there mostly being young boys, who quickly scurried away as Kyungsoo appeared. He let a small sigh slip from his lips as his knuckles tapped on the doors to Jongin’s office, picking up on the few voices that echoed from inside. After a few, hanging moments the doors opened, revealing a slightly upset Sehun, who stilled at the sight of him. Before Kyungsoo could enter, Sehun grabbed his arm, pulling him aside, earning a surprised and upset noise form Kyungsoo.

Sehun narrowed his eyes slightly before he spoke, looking intentively down at the shorter man. “Don’t try yourself with Suho, ok?”

Kyungsoo stuttered slightly, stopping in confusion at the unexpected words from Sehun. “I don’t-“

“Just, don’t,” Sehun interrupted, his voice restrained as he looked Kyungsoo up one more time before letting go of his arm, turning to leave. Kyungsoo looked after the younger man with a dumbfounded expression for several moments, his mind brimming over with questions that his mind was unprepared to answer. His thoughts were interrupted with an amused _‘come in’_ from inside Jongin’s office. He shook the incident off for now before stepping into his boss’ office.

“There you are,” Jongin cooed warmly, a wide smile on his face as he waved for Kyungsoo to come in. Kyungsoo closed the door behind him as he entered, rubbing his neck to soothe his pulsing pain as he made his way over to Jongin’s desk.

“What happened?”

Kyungsoo sighed.

“Everything went fine. They were just more prepared than I thought they would be,” he replied quietly, wincing slightly as Jongin pulled him towards him, still leaned back in his chair. “What’s up with Sehun?”

“You’re hurt.” Jongin ignored his question, tutting at Kyungsoo’s expression, pouting slightly. Like he always does.

“It’s nothing…”

“Sit,” Jongin interrupted with a smile, patting his thighs in invitation. Kyungsoo felt a small, almost unnoticeable rush of arousal at the sight, before begrudgingly giving in, turning to sit down on Jongin’s lap. He felt a warm feeling rush up his spine as Jongin’s hands pulled him down on his lap, his grip secure on Kyungsoo’s hips briefly before running his hands over Kyungsoo’s head, causing a pained hiss to escape from Kyungsoo’s mouth. Jongin tutted, his hands running gently over Kyungsoo’s back.

“What happened?”  

“I was floored,” Kyungsoo mumbled in reservation, rubbing his neck distraughtedly.

“Impressive,” Jongin cooed, his hands slipping under Kyungsoo’s sweater up his back, causing a furrowed brow to crown Kyungsoo’s face. “It must be hard to floor you,” Jongin clarified as he pulled the sweater up lightly, his eyes falling over the scratched up, brusied, and angry red skin on Kyungsoo’s back. Kyungsoo felt a rush of pain and warmth as Jongin’s placed his gentle lips on the damaged skin, turning to gently massage Kyungsoo’s stiff back. Kyungsoo failed to stop the heat that creeped up his face as Jongin shamelessly explored him, sitting sheepishly in his lap.

Kyungsoo’s blush deepened intensively when Suho barged in unannounced, stopping slightly at the sight of a flustered Kyungsoo on his boss’ lap.

“Yes?” Jongin asked dismissively, pulling the sweater down begrudgingly as he looked up at Suho, his hands tracing down to Kyungsoo’s hips, the sensation intensifying Kyungsoo’s blush as he turned away from Suho, suddenly feeling very exposed.

Suho’s gaze lingered on Kyungsoo for a little too long for for comfort, eventually tearing his eyes away to face Jongin. “Yeo settled for the offer. So the cocaine deal is pretty much done.”

Jongin smiled, “That’s great. How did the meeting go?” Kyungsoo let out a small, stuttered breath as Jongin’s grip on his hips tightened posessively. He could swear Suho’s eyes flashed towards him with an almost unnoticeable smirk pulling on his lips for just a second, his feelings of discomfort and flusteredness intensifying.

“It went well. He budged eventually when he realised he didn’t have any real leverage.” Suho smiled, turning around the chair in front of the desk to sit down, resting his elbows on the back rest, sitting slightly ajar from Jongin’s. “Kris gave us a lot of useful information,” Suho added, a smile pulling on his lips. Kyungsoo felt the creeping sense of discomfort intensifying as Suho’s eyes shifted towards him in small beats as Jongin pulled his waist into an embrace. Kyungsoo looked away, his jaw clenched and his face warm in embarresment and discomfort. The air in the room felt stifling as Suho’s eyes travelled over his body, and Jongin’s possessive grip felt increasingly uncomfortable.

Maybe he was imagining Suho’s strange looks, because Jongin didn’t seem to care, just kept conversing with Suho as if everything was normal. Almost as if he wasn’t really there. As his mind screamed at him to leave, he eventually pried Jongin’s firm grip open, flustered as Jongin looked up in surprise as he slipped from his lap, his beath stuttering slightly as his gaze flickered to the door.

“I’m so sorry, I have to g-“

“Oh?” Jongin raised his eyebrow, with a small, questioning smile as he pushed himself up before Kyungsoo could leave. Before Kyungsoo could budge Jongin cupped his cheeks, placing a warm, suffocating kiss on Kyungsoo’s lips, immediately taking his breath away, all under the attentive gaze of Suho.

 “Say hi to Xiumin from me, baby.”

Kyungsoo took a sharp breath, before slipping out of Jongin’s grasp to leave. His breath got stuck in throat in embarresment and fluster as Jongin squeezed his ass before letting him go. Kyungsoo’s breath stuttered, quickly grabbing his bag, and quickly slipping out the door without as much as looking at either of them. When the door closed behind him, he took a deep, shaky breath, his hands trembling slightly as he rubbed his face. What the fuck had that been about? He felt it hard to breathe as he quickly made his way through the dark hallway, quickly descending down the stairs in a hurry to get as far away from this place as possible.

-

As Jongin closed the door behind Kyungsoo with a small smile, he heard Suho adjusting in his seat, letting a sigh slip from his lips as Jongin made his way back to his chair.

“You really landed one there, didn’t you.” He let out in a small, wistful sigh.

“If you think for a second I’m sharing him with _you_ , you’re an idiot,” Jongin chuckled quietly as he slumped back into his chair. “You already pinned that boy Sehun down, didn’t you?”

Suho huffed, a small smile on his face as he leaned his chin on his arms. Maybe he was an idiot after all. Sehun was a lot of fun, but there was just something about Kyungsoo that made it hard for Suho to tear his gaze away. When something that sweet just walked willingly into Jongin’s grasp, he found it very hard resist taking a small bite.

 

-

 

When Kyungsoo finally arrived at the door to their apartment, he was out of breath, the harsh weather having worn him down on the long, dark way home. He took a deep breath before pushing down the door to their apartment, stepping into the comfortable warmth with a small sigh. The door was unlocked, so someone must be home. As his eyes scanned over the room, his brows furrowed slightly. No one was to be seen.

In the middle of hanging his coat by the door, his ears perked at the muffled sound of crying coming form one of the bedrooms, causing him to stop for a moment. In the absence of any voices, he quietly took his shoes off, his ears perked as he quietly made his way through the living room to where the noise was coming from – Chanyeol’s bedroom.

But as soon as he approached, he jumped at the sigh of Xiumin coming out of Chanyeol’s room, silently closing the door behind him. He looked up as he noticed Kyungsoo standing aimlessly in the middle of the living room, Kyungsoo’s mind brimming over with questions as his eyes panned over Xiumin’s slightly surprised face.

“Chanyeol is a bit... upset,” Xiumin explained, poorly, uncertain of how to explain the perceivably very messy situation. Kyungsoo nodded, airily, not having the energy to ask further questions at the moment.

“Baekhyun is in there, too,” Xiumin added without being asked, making his way over to the kitchen, reaching up to the cabinets to retrieve a mug.

As he turned, his eyes fell on Kyungsoo’s bewildered, exhausted face, pausing for a moment. “What happened to you?” he asked, slightly jokingly, but laced with a serious tone, as his eyes stopped to meet Kyungsoo’s through the relative darkness of the kitchen. Kyungsoo glanced away, avoidingly, hesitantly sliding into one of the chairs by the kitchen table. After a few, hanging moments, he hesitantly opened his mouth.

“Xiumin do you… do you know a lot about Suho?”

Xiumin raised his eyebrows at the question, turning to the liquor cabinet in brief thought. “I mean, we get along, yeah. Why?”

Kyungsoo let out a small sigh, looking down at his fidgeting fingers as he tried to formulate the ocean of thoughts swimming around in his head into something comprehensible.

“Well, um…” he paused slightly, his eyes flickering up to Xiumin, who was pouring whiskey into a mug, “he has been a little bit… weird,” he eventually pressed out, the answer not satisfying either of them.

“Mhm,” Xiumin commented, sliding into one of the chairs on the other side of the table, his look a little bit airy, clearly waiting for Kyunsgoo to continiue.

“I-I don’t know how to explain, but he’s been kind of, um… touchy?” he blushed slightly, not sure how to talk about the weird atmosphere that had surrounded the man the last weeks.

Xiumin nodded slightly, cupping the mug with both hands, his gaze lingering in silent question on Kyungsoo’s flustered face, trying to piece together Kyungsoo’s testimony with what he had noticed about Suho in their brief time of acquaintance. “In what context?”

Kyungsoo took a small breath, watching his own fingers as they intertwined with one another, under the patient gaze of Xiumin, who was sipping his whiskey from Chanyeol’s old, kitchy-looking mug.

“Mostly around Jongin?” Kyungsoo pushed out, his eyes flickering up to Xiumin, who nodded in reservation, placing his mug down.

“Well,” he sighed, “I can’t be sure, but he does come off as a bit… competitive?” he furrowed his brows slightly in thought, his eyes meeting Kyungsoo’s uncertain gaze. “I’m not sure how to describe it. You should probably ask him directly,” he concluded, taking a sip from his mug.

Kyungsoo sighed, failing to resist burying his face in his hands. Of course Xiumin was right, but at the same time, he couldn’t just ask Suho. What would he even ask him? And why was Jongin so complicit in all of this?

He looked up as Xiumin pushed the mug of whiskey over the table with a small, understanding smile on his face. Kyunsgoo immediately took it, gulping down a significant amount, relishing in the warm, burning sensation that creeped down his throat. He placed the mug down, offering a small smile of gratitude towards the man. He had slowly come to friendly terms with Xiumin, after months of resentment as suspsicion kept him far away from him. Some of it was still there, but as he gradually got to know him, his feelings slowly changed toward the more positive.

Xiumin offered a surprisingly warm smile in return as he returned the mug, pushing himself up from the table. “Tell me if you need anything else,” he added before leaving. Kyungsoo nodded, meeting his eyes briefly as Xiumin left, leaving Kyungsoo to sit alone in the dark kitchen. His eyes gazed aimlessly into the wall, his mind consumed with the simmering mixture of emotions, impressions, and question that swam through the mess that was his head.

 

 

 -

 

 

 

The smell in the basement was enough to make anyone nauseus. As Suho made his way down the murky, slightly slippery stairs, he had to squint to see anything at all. The air was stifling in the dark, narrow corridors, and the whole place reeked, reminding Suho of why he rarely went down here. After a few minutes of walking through the dark, damp corridors, he finally found himself by the right door, sharing a quick look with the tired guard leaned against the door, who quickly stepped aside as Suho approached.

Suho tapped his knuckles against the cold, hard steel of the cell, and despite the lack of a response from within, pushed open the creaking door.

He could hardly see anything from within, the only source of light coming from a small window in the other end of the cell, and falling from the doorway he was standing in. The metallic, murky smell of the cell hit him immediately, causing his nose to scrunch slightly in return. His eyes quickly found him, head leaned against the wall opposite of him.

“How are you feeling, Kris?” Suho smiled slightly as he closed the door behind him, effectively locking the both of them in the dark, murky cell.

Kris huffed slightly, turning his face away. He looked exhausted, and utterly eroded from days on end of confinement, with limited access to human contact, or even just sunlight.

“Are you always this patronising, Junmyeon?” Kris replied, his voice almost too thin to be intelligeable. Suho’s eyes panned over him for moments, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he stood to lean agaginst the door.

“Yeah, most people would say so.”

“I expected as much,” Kris snorted, looking down at his legs in silent distraction.

After a few moments of all-encompassing silence between the two, Kris finally opened his mouth again, not even bothering to look up at Suho,

“Is this going to be like last time, where you beat me until you get whatever information you’re looking for?”

Suho laughted loudly and warmly in return, running his hand through his hair. “Not at all,” he looked back at Kris, who raised his eyebrows at the words, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“I just wanted some good, decent company.”

“So you ‘hang out’ with one of your own prisoners? Now _that_ is just sad, Junmyeon,” Kris retorted back, pulling his long legs to his chest with a pained expression.

“I just think you’re fun to talk to, Yifan,” Suho tilted his lips slightly, the patronising and amused undertones of his voice not escaping Kris, who just rolled his eyes at the uneccesary, mocking conjecture, but didn’t respond, just adjusted his arms behind his back with a small grunt.

Suho looked at Kris for a few, fleeting moments, before looking away with a small, wistful sigh.

“It’s almost admirable how you insist on rotting in this cell just for Jiyong,” Suho eventually commented, causing Kris to snort in reply.

“If you actually think I’m in here because of Jiyong, you must be an idiot,” Kris replied, his voice quieter than before.

“Then why?” Suho asked, his eyes finding their way back to the aching figure in the other end of the room, realising he had never really bothered to ask him before.

“Because Jongin wants me here. We both know that.”

Suho all but chuckled in return, not really able to deny the statement.

“And because of that little shit, Xiumin.” Kris added, looking away slightly. “It all kind of comes back to Xiumin.”

Suho snorted. “Can’t really deny that.”

They sat like that for a while, none of them feeling an overwhelming urge to speak. Kris was caught in his own spiteful thoughts, whilst Suho’s mind wandered, eventually finding their way to Kyungsoo. They both found themselves thinking of how differently things could have been, of how everything that had built up to this could just as easily leading to them in opposite positions from how they sat now. In this business, and in this city in particular, it didn’t really matter what your intentions were. It had worked out for Suho in the same way it had failed so many others.

 

 

 -

 

 

When Chanyeol eventually woke up, all he could feel was the pain and aching that rushed through his body at every heartbeat, contributing to the general feeling of grogginess that seeped through his mind. He couldn’t immediately recall why helt so awful, but as it slowly returned to him, all he could think of was how badly he wanted to return to a state of unconsciousness. He groaned weakly, the only source of comfort coming from the warmth of arms and blankets wrapped around him. His mind refused to let his memories of last night slip away from him, forcing him to relive the result of his bad decision making. He clenched his jaw slightly, desperately trying to wrap his arms around whoever was holding him in an embrace. As soon a she realised it was Baekhyun, his heart skipped a beat, heat rising in his face for just a second. For just a few moments of feeling Baekhyun’s peaceful breath britsle in his hair, and hearing his distant heartbeat through his chests, he couldn’t help but imagine how differently things could have been. He quickly realised that self-pity wasn’t helping. Baekhyun was Xiumin’s, and no matter how much he wished things were different, it wouldn’t change anything.

_Xiumin._

The name brought forth a strange mix of emotions in Chanyeol’s chest. He couldn’t quite place what felt so different in the usual mix of resentment and frustration that came up whenever he thought of him.

Baekhyun eventually stirred as Chanyeol hugged him closer, his body stirring with a soft exhale as he slowly slipped from sleep. Chanyeol closed his eyes, wanting to hold onto this feeling for as long as possible.

Baekhyun let out a small yawn, his body clenching slightly as he hugged Chaneyol closer. Eventually his eyes fluttered open. “Yah…” he sighed quietly, his warm breath russling slightly through Chanyeol’s hair. Eventually he looked down, his eyes falling on Chanyeol’s russled hair, finding himself in the firm embrace of the taller man. He felt a strange mix of emotions pool in his stomach at the sight, watching his best friend bury his face in his chest. His brows furrowed slightly as memories of last night returned to him.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice airy and slightly hoarse as he ran his hand through Chanyeol’s messy hair. Chanyeol soon lifted his head enough to glance up at Baekhyun, at which his heart tightened. He had dreamed of this for so long. But this wasn’t that, he reminded himself of over and over again, the pit in his stomach deepening at the thought. Baekhyun had Xiumin. He doesn’t love you.

“How are you feeling?” Baekhyun’s voice brought him back to reality, a tired and confused Chanyeol blinking in response. Chanyeol let a small sigh slip from his lips, failing to resist the urge to just bury his face in Baekhyun’s comforting chest.

“I don’t know,” He eventually muttered quietly, his mind occupied with the feeling of Bakehyun’s embrace tightening slightly. Baekhyun resisted the unanswered questions that pressed in his mind. About Minseok, about his contractor. Instead, he just ran his hand up Chanyeol’s back, feeling the pulsing, aching muscles under his fingers.

Eventually, Chanyeol slowly pushed himself up, wincing as pain shot up his spine and arms in effort, causing a concerned look to crown Baekhyun’s face. “I should probably shower,” Chanyeol mumbled apologetically as he slipped out of bed, trying to not show the pain that pulsed through him as he slowly limped to the door. Bakehyun watched for a few moments, eventually falling back to the mattress with a sigh.

After fumbling for his phone for a few moments and not finding it, he realised that this wasn’t his bed, and pushed himself up from the matress. He slowly made his way through the kitchen, grogginess seeping through his mind as he fumbled for a glass, turning on the tap. He stifled a jump as Minseok’s arms snaked around his waist, resting his chin on Baekhyun’s shoulder.

“Good morning,” Baekhyun mumbled in response, smiling slightly in Minseok’s embrace, filling his glass with water before turning off the tap. His heart soared as Minseok placed a warm kiss on his neck.

“How are you?” The serene and soft tone of voice was all Baekhyun needed.

“I’m good,” he mumbled as he turned around to face Minseok, gulping down the contents of the glass. The muffled sound of the shower echoed through the room as Minseok ran his hands down Baekhyun’s back, eventually finding their place at the small of his back. Baekhyun felt a rush of warmth in his fingertips at Minseok’s touch, and failed to supress a smile as his eyes found Minseok’s. He placed the glass down with a sigh, turning to rest his hands on the kitchen sink behind him, looking wistfully up at Minseok, failing to not get lost in Minseok’s eyes. Minseok chuckled slightly at Baekhyun’s groggy expression, moving his hand up to cup Bakehyun’s neck.

Baekhyun failed to resist the urge to lean up and meet Minseok’s lips half way, a shudder running through him at the feeling of Minseok’s warm lips kissing him back. Baekhyun smiled into Minseok’s mouth, his lips tingling as Minseok’s tongue ran into his mouth. 

Minseok failed to stifle a jump as he heard a clanking sound behind him, breaking away from Baekhyun’s kiss to meet the sight of a groggy Kyungsoo pouring hot water into a mug. Baekhyun’s breath stuttered slightly in embarresment as his eyes met Kyungsoo’s, who rolled his eyes slightly at the sight. “Good morning,” Kyungsoo mumbled, his back slightly hunched as he stirred his instant coffee into his mug, not looking up.

“It’s been a while,” Baekhyun stated with a smile, his tone of voice slightly uncertain as his eyes met Kyungsoo’s. In fairness, it had been, since Kyunsgoo spent so much time with Jongin nowerdays. Kyungsoo stopped for a few moments, but eventutally decided not to respond further than with a small, reluctant nod as he grabbed his coffee cup. Baekhyun caught Kyungsoo’s small, apologetic smile last second before he left to sit down by the kitchen table, Minseok turning back to Baekhyun with a wistful sigh.

All of them looked up as the door to the bathroom opened. Chanyeol looked up for a mere second before lowering his gaze to the floor as he saw Xiumin leaned over Baekhyun, his stomach dropping at the sight. Xiumin leaned back slightly as Chanyeol made his way over. Kyungsoo also looked up, stopping at the sight of Chanyeol’s limp, and the red marks on his wirsts that were barely visible under the sleeves of his sweater.

To Chanyeol, the silence felt suffocating as he made his way over to the kitchen sink, slightly flustered as he realised he was wearing nothing more than boxer briefs on his lower half, leaving his bruised skin exposed. As his eyes met Xiumin’s, he stopped. He wasn’t sure what he felt anymore. It was easier when he could just hate Xiumin. Hate him for having tortured his best friend, and then for making Baekhyun fall for him. But now things felt different. The mixture of emotions that rose in his chest wasn’t as easy to interpret as it used to be. As he looked into Xiumin’s eyes, all he could feel was confusion and frustration.

Baekhyun’s eyes flickered uncertainly between the two, nervousness and confusion building in his chest. He had no idea what either of them were thinking, or exactly what his role in all of this was. He couldn’t identify if he was uncomfortable or just confused, but regardless, his grip on the kitchen sink tightened.

The surreal, almost peaceful scene was broken by the almost unnoticeable sound of Kyungsoo clearing his throat, bringing both Chanyeol and Xiumin back to reality.

Baekhyun let out an almost unintelligible sigh, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands at the situation he had somehow gotten himself into.

Kyunsgoo sighed, and continued to drink his coffee as if nothing was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it ❤  
> This is the last completed chapter I have, so it'll be a while before I update it ʕ´•ᴥ•`ʔ
> 
> Update: i'm working on it, but school is kicking my ass so it's a while left

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: soft-nini-bear


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